Turning Into Art
Showing me his innocence reawakened mine.
Presenting his humility created some sense of humanity.
Treating me as a gift rather than a necessity reminded me of what it meant to be structured of this earth.
Alive. Available. Alone.
Your presence made mine perish.
Your abilities turned mine into minimal achievements.
Your song turned mine into a poem.
Your words turned mine into gentle hums.
Your grace turned mine into stumbles.
And you turned me into art.
Painted with experience.
Sketched with memories.
Drawn with nostalgia.
Colored with melancholy reminders.
Created with every word you almost said.
Connected with every constellation.
Intertwined with every branch of every tree.
You stand tall with petrified knowledge holding your ground.
You inhale only the purest wind to fill your lungs beyond capacity.
Existence was never hard for someone assembled to handle any occurrence.