his fingers are like paintbrushes
and he caresses me;
a canvas once blank but now
coloured all the shades he loves.

his eyes are dark pools
and i swear i saw
pretty little fish
swimming in his irises.

his smile makes my heart
sing a song,
melodies strummed from
my heartstrings.

his eyes are fixed
on mine and he looks
at me with a sense of pride,
and he tells me i'm his masterpiece.