Let me start by the sign of your young and your adultness: your hair. From the ponytail of a middle schooler to the aggressive look of sophisticated young adults in the mid-twenties, your hair defines your age. Then I would go to your eyes, half-moons shining over your face; on the bottom the brightness of the sun at sunrise in your smile, both of them illuminating the serene mountain of your beautiful nose.
I would
then slide my wordy pencil through the softness of your cheek. Looking at the
shadows behind your ears, abysms of fantasies and forbidden laughs. I would
fall through the waterfall of your neck, letting some drops of paint to mark
your moon spots: a sign for the explored that we can´t leave out. Soon my
drawing would have to expand, as resting in your neck-bone opens a diversity of
beautiful tracks through you. Perhaps rise to the end of your shoulder, not to
admire the view but to let myself fall through your arm to hold your arm. Feel
the elegance of your fingers and discover the secret moon spot between them.
I would
kiss your hand deeply to get energy to raise my brush back to the base of your
neck. To discover a vast valley of surreal beauty. Laying extended like dunes
under the stars, that back that I would go through in long curvy strokes. Curvy
to make the sensual curves in your hips appear. I would skip the mystery of
your chest to focus on the cuteness of your abdomen. I would have to inspire
myself in beds of petals to draw the lightness of that soft pillow, crowned by
the bellybutton in the middle. I would need a thicker brush to paint the
strength of your legs. Expanding the sensual curves from your hips into the
svelte long lines that reach your delicate feet.
So lay
naked for me to complete the blurry places in my painting. I want to show art
what´s beauty using you as my model. I need to let the colours of my feelings
delineate your gorgeous figure. Only it being my destiny would explain why this
fantasy visits me every night as I go to sleep.
