paint—
on my brushes
my jeans
your shirts
on my arms
my fingers
your cheeks—
i'll be working
part-time
at the gallery, and
sweat—
on your neck
your shirt
my hoodie
on your skin
your jaw
my lips—
you'd be looking
at offers
to go pro.
i'll sell my paintings
but checks will only get me
oh so far, so
my wallet would be nearly
empty of dollar bills,
but with you,
my heart would be nearly
full of sunshine,
as long as i'm with you.
hell, i'll buy the
sunshine for you
if i could. and
i'll paint it on the canvas
(acrylic paint, mind you)
and i'll have it hung
up for display,
for you, for the world,
for everyone to see.
i'll come to your DI
games and
cheer for you,
would you come to the
gallery openings
and support me, too?
make art,
make love,
i guess.
Make art, make love.
