to all of my beloveds

xidorn

love #6

my ingenious xidorn,

when it comes to you, the scents of oil paint and mediums flood my mind. those days in which i'd find you in the atelier, stained with so many colors i could never name, and the rich tones in your skin would glitter from the rays that floated in from the glass. that easy smile that would engrave itself into your bitten lips, and the lightness that would fill those clear eyes of yours.

there is nothing in this material world that i could ever want than to awake to that sight once more.

without your presence, your energy, my life remains colorless and absent of brilliance. the words that rolled from your tongue could make a blind man cry, as that is how beautiful you made the earth seem in your view.

your paintings could never compare to those works of alighieri, and isidore, no, they were too remarkable for that. mine own virtuoso, how i crave your voice that carried me to lands of both dreams and pleasures. i miss you, and your overtly compassionate nature, as well as your courageous disposition. these traits that defined you sparked some good in me i feel, and i don't think i could ever thank you enough.

if i could, for you i'd buy the world in black in white, all so that i could watch you dye it in all the vibrance that resides within your body.

all those times that we'd walk, your nails colored with pigment as you clutched onto mine own hand, sharing philosophical discourse before you'd stop abruptly and start pulling me to a meadow you'd spotted in the red leaves. i could only stand and watch you, rapt when we stumbled to our destination as a look of absolute wonder and inspiration dawned your features.

i couldn't help pulling you down with me and rolling in the warmth of the grasses, kissing that clever mouth of yours so hard i could feel my head go light with mesmerization. it felt like the clash of steel, sparks flying from the hammer.

my life with you is one of astonishment and fondness – the type you'd feel when revisiting the hill that you'd played on as a child, remembering all the endless possibilities that had filled your imagination – a sweet nostalgia that is painted in a vivid golden hue. yet i am still able to see the flush that tinted your ebony flesh.

my thoughts run endlessly devoted to you, and everything that you mean to me. the way that my heart jumps in delight at the sight of you is something only a fool would not know as love.

with this, my longing and love collide, and my throat burns tears to my eyes.

- Q.