WHERE PEN AND SKIN CONNECT

I trace the outlines of my heart and attempt to make it rhyme.

I place them on paper and scribble aimless lines.

They draw out your legs, your hands, and how you pretend not to care.

The lines turn into your smile, your eyes, and the colours of your hair.

There's unfinished novels and artworks created with you in mind.

There's hidden metaphors and similes with no one else but you to find.

If I were to take you down the deepest libraries of my heart;

You wouldn't know where we ended but your laugh would be engrained at the start.

With every stroke I make there's something to undo.

I've fallen in love a thousand times.

Every time it was you.