He* paints the setting sky with his bare hands;
Shades of orange bursting with the same
vibrancy as the life in his smile.
Crimson of a passion bleeding out of open wounds so
deep I believe his soul is fathomless.
Pinks like soft lips planting kisses along the curve
of a body he has yet to till.
Cerulean matching irises of eyes lighting up in
the sunshine he bestows through an
inescapable darkness.
A spectrum into existence by his design-
I tell him everything created is art.