Form of Art

My favorite canvas to paint on is the bed you lay on next to me on.
As you take your fingers to slowly paint the places you love the most.
Every touch is so full of intention that each brush stroke feels like an ancient technique.
I can’t help but to trace every inch of your skin until it becomes the only drawing etched in my memory.
Your body speaks to me in every language that leaves my lips as I try to explain my source of inspiration for this form of art.
As you pull my hips closer to yours to align the colors before they burst into an euphoric creation, I whispered “This is art”

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