Painters

My best friend Chris and I wrote this poem, the even lines are mine and the odd are his

I wondered what to paint on the blank canvas

Your hand was the first thing that came to mind

I worked on hours on the masterpiece but still didn’t find the time

When you touch me with that hand it’s hard to breathe

And when I touch you with my hand I hope the breathing becomes more heavy

Fingers intertwine eyes connect

Staring at what passion is made of

I can’t look away

I try hard not to blink or I might miss a moment of your beauty

One day I hope to look into your eyes and see what you see

Revealing everything you thought of me

I suggest you hold me tight and don’t set me free

I never want to slip away from you so tell me that you love me

Reviews

[SimplyDisastrous]

This is beautiful, Nia. You and Chris did an excellent job (: This is one of my favorites.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are a very good writer. You took me in with the beautiful lead lines and held me to the last words. Painting is a very good to describe love. To be able to view a body with a painter eye's are to memories the body from feet to face. I like the ending. Thank you for the amazing poetry.
Coyote