I fell in love…
By: Deniqua Washington
His face shone with the sweat of a hard days' work.
I could see the breath slowly leaving his lips with every movement of his chest.
His beard, swirled around his chin like a child does its mother.
His eyes the color of onyx, laid in pure white clouds.
A little hurt, a little happy, but accompanying much wisdom.
Each lash of his eye laid perfectly like a Chinese traditional fan
His lips plump, fresh strawberries, sweet and tender.. but firm in his words.
Each one of his teeth a perfect shape, placed one after the other, none out of place.
See he was a living, breathing work of art.
He was my first work of art.
Somehow when we first met, he made me cry.
Creating him was really draining.
But looking at him now, sitting right in front of me, I wouldn’t change him if you paid me.
He was a pauper, laden with the insecurities of poverty.
But he had the potential of a warrior, fighting for proclivity.
I always called him my favorite.
Reassured him that he was progressing to be perfect.
Sometimes his eyes were unsure, and his lips quivered with angst.
But in his conscience mind he understood the power of mistakes.
My brush strokes painted different emotions across his brilliant face.
His arms were branded with hurtful words, and his chest scared with inconsistency.
On his broad back he held peace and understanding, honesty and love.
He fights to stay alive, and wrestles to sustain individuality.
My sweet words are laid upon his listening ears every day.
I am confident in his love for me, never having to beg him to stay..
Kissing his temple, and reminding him of light when things seem dim
He is my writing, and I love him.