I try and paint with my mind
But your touch is in
The way
It is distracting
And delightful
At the same time
Like burning a candle
At both ends
And I am curious
With thoughts of
A cat
Susceptible and attracted
To the madness
Of your alluring kiss
Just as the paint
Is impoverished
To the brush
But the paint
Has no feelings
Other than
Making love
To the canvas
And I too have become
Impoverished to your
Presents
Your smell
Your walk
That special way
You say things
The silly way you hold
A glass
That is you
And I have become
Attached to you
Just as the color pink
Sits on the edge of a
Tulip
And I can
No longer escape
Your magic
For it is now
That I have become
Embellished
And caught
In-between the brush
Strokes
Of your love..
- Ken Riccio original poems ©
