You are my art.
The way that you breathe.
The way that you speak.
The way that your hands find a way to whisper sweet nothings to my skin.
You are my art.
The way your skin wraps around you.
A plain canvas I want to paint on.
You are my art.
With your hair
And your smile
And your laugh
And your goofy jokes.
When you are spicy
And cheesy
And grumpy because I am restless.
When you check if I am okay.
And you ask me not to lie because you hear the tone of my voice.
You are my heart because of how my heart sings for you.
And art is timeless.
Your eyes are infinite.
My word.
You’re gorgeous.
You are beautiful.
And funny.
And smart.
You are art.
They should make us pay to see you.