Okay, it ain't been that long! But check this out...
No paint or palette he tried to paint her in words
The picture, perfect. Atleast that’s what I heard.
Pen in his hand, the outcome a lyrical Picasso
Read it and, from the poem, that’s the pic I saw
and this’ the rest of what I saw…
the words were stuck, preserved in my head, canned verse
more like wet oil paint sticks to the painter’s surface, canvas
and I understood to be digging it like this, it had to be deep,
and I know it had to be a feeling for me to write this.
He was painting in rhythm and the result was audio scenery,
I had the perfect view, you should have seen it with me.
I was high on harmony, flow visually bottled ecstasy
It felt like it was my sunshine, like it was my source of energy.
He handed me the painting, a great thing, I didn’t bother waiting,
the way things were predetermined, best spot was by your side-and
that was a sudden thought that reminded me of Sade, sweetest taboo
you an imprint on my mind like a wicked tattoo, what am saying to you
Is you,were the master piece that resulted.
You.
Masterpiece.
