i’m seeing lines. i’m giving up where i never wanted to be and asking, telling, drawing the details of what it might look like. your canvas is made up of a thousand memories and you talk of art in a way that makes me want to be the painting. we spoke of layers at one point and how we peel them away from each other. i am shy yet always your slate to write upon. you are what i never realized i always wanted. when the fog drifts away i stand there with all my edges and softness, you with your soul and strength. i touch the lines and they blur. there is light and shadow, but mostly light.
i’m wondering where i would ever have been if not for you.