I will paint our world with words,
decorate it with blissful thoughts -
of spoken and whispered wishes,
of narratives and dreamy cries.
I may not be good at mixing colors,
but in my imagination I have this vivid picture -
of you and me together at sunsets -
cycling over meadows,
or walking by the shores.
I’m terrible at drawing pictures;
no brush or canvass can recreate how I feel.
But I can paint our world with my words,
with every letter you’ll see what I mean.
drawn by spilled ink.
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