I think I could get used to waking up beside you, and following the catlike curve of that smile on your celestial canvas with a trembling brush. I could paint you in the evenings, and watch as you colored the world with such a vibrant palette of a voice and explained to me the things you love with the most vivid of words.
Unfinished, unedited I'm too tired to think And she's clogging my mind, anyway.