My Renaissance Painting

By Grace Atkin

The sky is a watercolor painting, the brightest colors coming to life

whenever you’re in the foreground. 

I see nothing surpassing your beauty, 

not even a cloudy day with neighboring mountains held together by a frame.

A glimpse of your body is a renaissance for me, 

a period of great magnificence in the spotlight. 

Every inch of your body is a focal point in my eyes, 

taking in your kissable face, the curls to your hair, the flawless way your hips meet your waist – 

And your eyes are painted with the darkest of paints,

a shady sky above me, looking into my ponds of aquamarine. 

When we mix we produce a new shade, 

one endemic to us, ready for our patronage of the arts, an endowment to history. 

I’ll always forgive your cracks of paint and color, minor tears to canvas, 

never judge your history after completion, 

And I vow to preserve you as if you were in a museum –

on display for not only me to appreciate and adore. 

For I consider our love to be nothing of reality, 

too divine for others, veiled inside the fantasy world of a painting of our contributions,

Where it waits for its details and signatures once dry and worthy of fruition. 

I find perfection to be near; an immaculate actuality as long as you’re by my side.