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By CordovaGirl Date: 2004 Jul 22 Comment on this Work [[2004.07.22.21.12.29870]] |
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In treelit shadows across our bedroom, we just can't seem to go to sleep. I may be an artist of the human body, but my penciled curves on paper are nothing compared to the love-drawn lines he renders with aroused fingertips over my love-soaked skin. Sometimes I imagine myself as his never-hardening clay, allowing his mind to mold the curves his wandering hands wander to, without ever having to remoisten me. As his nocturnal canvas, his sweat coats my skin like a steeped layer of oil paint Never drying in the heat, and dizzying my senses with it's scent. All my expensive art school studies, yet I'll never master the brushwork his impassioned fingers create in our sleepless nights as we use each other as a muse. |