Of all the things I could imagine
I could never conjure up
Something as breath taking as yourself
With eyes wide shut I see many shades of you
But confined I am
To only the colors of the rainbow on my palette
I have not your heavenly hues nor the steady hand
To even begin to trace your masterpiece
Free hand with shackled mind
To the prison of mere imagination
Your face is the key to my cell
Your hands the key to my heart
And your soul bears the key to a life of never-ending color
A life I've spent my entire existence searching for
And I could be completely wrong about this
In fact I always have been in my history
But I'm done being the historian
Whos eyes are always shut to the future
While stuck to the past
It is time to blow dust from the pages of present
And hold your hands while writing in colors not of this world
To create a life with you that is equal in nature
So you mustn't ask me to rely on imagination
In creating your duplication because in every case
Your truth will always be boundlessly
More beautiful than fiction
And I shall never limit myself
To the colors of this world
When you created from the heavens that lie above it