what meaningless doodles to her
are his perfections displaying her true beauty.
her hand, her hand wanting so desperately to create
but does none of the sort-
or so she thinks.
he compliments, suggests, and encourages.
she replies, refusing, and rejecting.
nevertheless, the thought of him still by her side
is reason enough to try once more.
as her bursh dances on her canvas,
moving in such a way,
displaying new curves and twists she notices
that each of her works is inspired by him.
it is HE she paints, it is HE that ispires,
and it is HE that she loves.