he was the art
of deception
of deftly crafted artifice
of reading between the lines
he was the art
of speeding cars
of lightning
of roaring flames

but you
honey, you are art
of a different kind

you are the art
of the first light of dawn
of the stars winking in the inky night
of the sun showers on saturday afternoon
you are the art
of drizzling rain
of cold coffee and creamer
of simplistic precision
i could marvel at you for days