I wished to be
That interesting.
That beautiful.
In that startling, jarring sort of way.
That impressive
The sort of ease that permeates each movement.
To paint... fantastic realism
A realistic fantasy
Or sing with those buttered tones that just slip
from note to note
like drops of water
from leaf to leaf
With the delicacy of a petal...
see-through thin sheet
But the power of an ocean
A lion
roaring
The sort of muse...
The only sort of muse
That steals hearts and souls
With just a look
Just one
Every bit of the way
From the tousle of the hair
hands
eyelash
the curve of her cheek
lips
frame - strong - slender
like a dancer
always moving
in motion to some music that everyone can hear
but isn't ever playing
fingerprints
like permanent markings on the brain
the iris
the heart
the very soul
stolen.
the kind that move the great men to paint
to write
to sing forever
to sweat for gold and diamonds
to wrap round her finger
to hunt, to win, to adore
always
since as long as i can remember
i wished.
i wished.
i wished to be.
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