If I was asked to paint my life on a canvas, your silhouette would be the first thing I would brush on.
Following would be the deep and courageous shade of brown I voyage through when I look into your eyes.
And it's almost as if I would have to stencil in the word "perfect" where your smile is placed instead of steadying my hand enough.
Although I could never sway my fingers beautifully enough to visualize how I see you, I'd hope you'd still Love it.

If someone were to question what my life story is about, I could only respond by saying "finding her".
You are the space in between all my letters.
The chapters that I can't nearly prolong enough.
Every period, comma, colon, exclamation point and question mark.

Repayment won't ever be sought out enough.
Merely because I don't have enough seconds in a day to give you recognition for the aspiration you gift to me.
You've given me the freshest breath of air and the cleanest drink of water.
For that, I give you my all and hope it's enough.

So I send you thanks, for giving me a plot.
And I thank you for providing me with the most wondrous story line.
I dedicate this piece of art to you, my dear.