While I was missing you the other day
My best friend asked me how I would paint you
I had to take a deep breath but decided
I’d paint your chest bright red
A deep blood red that spread and faded over your torso,
Because you wrote with your heart, and you’d follow those words to the ends of the earth.
Said I’d paint your fingers cobalt blue because no matter how cold it is you’ll sit outside and smoke a cigarette, and if inspiration hit you’d freeze your fingers off writing.
I told her I’d paint your hair golden, it makes you seem warm, with cobalt streaks from how often you twist your cold fingers into it.
Your lips would be a plump pink from all the times I’d imagined them kissing me.
Your legs would be a warm color, orange or maybe a brown, because you’re always going somewhere, and when you’re not you’re antsy to head off.
Told her your eyes would be black because you try to see everything and black breaks down to every color.
I told her I’d paint you as the word baby falling off my lips,
Because baby I always wished I could feel your palms against my hips
I’d paint you traveling the world because you can’t stand to stay anywhere
It doesn’t seem fair
That I could write novels about how I miss you
But you never realized I left

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