Your hand grips the steering wheel while the other rests upon my thigh
I used to watch you out of the corner of my eye, sheepish
when you caught me staring,
like a child who had been caught stealing
cookies from the cookie jar.
But now I do it blatantly,
leaning my seat back all the way just to marvel at the work of art that is you.
Sparks fly when you lift your face to smile.
You laugh and say “Can I help you?” , every time you feel my eyes on you.
Usually, I’m too star struck to say anything
so I just smile and shake my head,
never taking my eyes off those freckled cheeks of yours,
or the curve of your ear,
counting the strands of hair static has called towards the sky.
I wonder how long it took for the Mona Lisa to be painted
I know you’d look it up the second you thought of the question,
or I mentioned it aloud.
So I just googled it and turns out it took four years.
If I were a painter, I’d spend my whole life painting you
Every glisten in your eyes
Every smile line, every freckle
Introduce your dimples; those subtle beauties coaxed out by a smile or a laugh
I would follow the swirl of your shoulders with my brush
place each muscle with a heart.
Animate every stroke of your tattoo
the scar stretching down your lower back
I’d finger paint the jackhammering of your nails,
red skin torn from battling with anxiety
I’d get every detail
down to your toes.
I’d die a perfectionist,
in love with imperfections.
But tell me,
How does one paint
the playlist you made me;
or the good nights we whisper to each other on the phone?
What colour acrylics should I use for the way my heart took off
like a hot air balloon when we first said our I love you’s?
How many coats should I apply
to “my hand and your hand are puzzle pieces for one another”?
You tell me I’m the starry night;
Well, darling, you’re the cathedral of Notre Dame
or maybe you’re graffiti,
Art that can be found anywhere
Rocks and abandoned houses,
Sidewalks and bridges.
Yeah, I think that’s you
or maybe you’re
constellations and clouds that look like anything depending on who’s looking
I’m not sure
But I always see sparks fly when you smile.
What I do know is you’re an enigma,
And I’m in love with every form of art you take on
—Written by Alankriti Singh for MTTN
—Featured Image by Shraddha Jathan