For you my art becomes somatic.
For you it melds asomatous and adroitness.
My oeuvre is intended for you
and so I bestow with the invisible ink,
of the mind that only you see,
the precious words thick with dreams
and hidden meanings.
L'œuvre de la Nuit
Showcased to an audience of only one
At 3am whilst the world waits on the sun.
Inspired by a masterpiece
My work has only just begun.
And we’ve many more sunset to dawns
To layer my ardor many times over
On your heart.

You
Turn me into a poet aroused
by the beauty of your being and I
Feel the increasing need to impart,
to write with asomatous ink, many a stanza upon
the surfaces of the recesses of your heart.
My desire for you transforms me from beast
Into a composer with a symphony,
to compose lush chanson to reach
deep and strong within thee
until you vibrate with a thousand
instruments.
La nuit commence tout juste.
With such art fait la nuit
is there really need for sleep?

Tonight
I want first to explicate
and delve into the many ways
that I will love you
through ever so many days.
And afterwards to situate
the softest, and warmest touch
of lips like a painters wet brush
onto new canvas.
To seep into you like
a vocalists voice into new lyric.
To flow with you akin
a dancer gliding through the motions
of a grand romance, an
oeuvre cowritten by you and I
performed through the night.