Love Painter

You sketch passions with brushes of such breadth
All I see is red.
Then you fill in the blues with crayons so fine...
Why am I the one who breaks?
And you draw rage
In charcoal blacker than night.
Yet the visage so delicate
It makes me cry.

Love-painter, love-painter, paint mine now:
All this longing, all this fear,
All the why?, all the how?.

All that I see, all that I hear,

Is my beloved lying low
In a coat of rainbows
Enfolden
In love’s iridescent throes.