Poetry - Love

I thought You Were an Artist

At first
I thought you were an artist
drawing nameless women
in your bed
melting them with your hands
into puddles of graphite

I wanted you to color me in
to the blank pages
of your skin
paint me
all over your white walls
you said my streaks were too vivid
my heart too heavy with hues
that you would have to water me down
until I became diluted
completely