the way Michelangelo painted the Sistine, you painted me.
you laid on your back and brought me to life through the brush of your kiss.
against your tongue came mine into existence,
for your fingertips, you made my cheek.
through the night you created the curve of my waist,
by sunrise you drew my thigh.
you sculpted everything-
from the bend of my lips, to the arch in my back,
to fingernails, to ears, to neck, hips, palms, teeth, eyelashes.
with your ribs, you made mine.
in my smile, i was made to hold our happiness.
in your hands, you were made to hold me.