I’ve always been
contented with
the knowledge
my creativity
manifests itself
in words.

But if I could
draw you
the way
you looked
that night,

half bathed
in moonlight
and rising
above me,

I swear
I would
give them
all up and
never write
another word
as long as I lived.

You were beautiful.

And no words
will ever compare
to the way I will
always see you,
inside my head.


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