Your body is my canvas, and although
I own no paints,
(They dried up underneath my bed
amidst a pile of old children’s toys and
lost puzzle pieces that are owned by
my under-the-bed monster guy.)
I can touch your skin and drag my fingertips down your flesh and
Paint a scene of life and love amongst your pores.
I was never a painter, but
I’ll use my heart, and while you shiver we’ll create
a master piece on your olive complexion.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
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I pressed the "liked" button 'cause this is really good. I can see love in here...and I see the whole idea you created. About how love paints the way for you...this was ok. Keep writing,
!
~Sky
Okay, Kelly. Let me get straight to the point.
Is this about sex? Like, seriously. Because the last stanza adds a touch of sensuality. And I'm not saying it's bad. But it just took me a bit off guard. I never expected eroticism to come so smoothly through metaphors.
This is all praise, basically. I love this. I cannot say enough.
GRADE: A
It's love. I sense that someone is trying to show how much their love is worth and how they see it by giving it the idea of a painting and how they try to give all they can to them. It could have different meanings and that one is mine. :3