If I could paint your every detail
and drown your profile in colors
and let them ooze life into the canvas,

I’d miss a million of your hues,

and if I could write my passions,
into sonnets and quatrains
and pour out my heart and soul

I’d lose thousands of your wonders

but if I could give you all my trust
and loan you my heart
just for you to throw them away

I’d rather leave than stay.

but I know that I couldn’t stray.