The Lover and the Artist

There's a petal lain for every day

We've walked this path

Front door to bed, I remember every

Moment, from Decembers cold and hopeless

Where we were warmed only
By the fire's breath, and our kiss
To the summers' sweat
Where we dared cool off only
After we were spent
I remember the salt on your skin
The crumpled dress
The unspoken invitation
The expectation of unrest
I draw your figure on the canvas
Lay the brush down in deep red
Color full lips, still damp with my kiss
Each stroke culled from moments
Where laughter gave way to passion
Where one look is all it took
To give in, live in that bed
Where fears and clothes were shed
For hours, devouring each other with our eyes
And mouths,  traversing newly discovered lands
Whose hills and valleys kept us climbing and falling
All over this
There's a petal lain for every day
Save this, I and a single red rose waiting
For you to come back in.