I want to slowly become your history.
Softly, I’d be immobile before you knew
I was there, and always waking

In truth, I’ll lean against your porch rail,
Its white paint chipping to thinning grass
Searching your eyes
I’ll drown in etherealized memories

For I want to paint you and
The light as one
Simply, I’ll dress you in shades of
Blue, green, and silver like the moonlight
Cutting my view and the moment in half
Fluid you are my art

But I am not an artist, and you’re too real
for this dreamy trance of a moment
your face demands a vivid reality
As this, you are a photograph

I remain on your porch,
The moon rinsing half the yard clean
I wait for the light to move
as the shadows shift across your face
Patient in my silence
the morning will come
and I will welcome it, as you
have always taught me to do.