He paints poems on her heart
She poses for him with naked truth
And the secret colors of lunacy and madness
Spill forth onto page and canvass
By brush and by breath
His thick paint of love and life
Explodes and streaks
And pours and gushes out
It saturates and soaks her heart and skin
And moves and flows
To the rythm of her pulse
Mixing in her vivacity and blood
Creating a palette and light
Only mad lovers can feel and see
It leads their feet
To honeys blood from
Pots of golden love
Where their bodies swim
In Amsterdam decadence
And Paris pleasure
Their hearts walls rich
With paintings of love
And everday
He picks up brush
And takes deep breath
As he watches her undress
Until she is nothing more
Than beautiful and true
And with soft and gently strokes
He brushes over scars and tears
And over her soul and marrow
As he paints another
Poem on her heart