Canvas

He strolls the

canvas of her brain

bestowing little sweetnesses

memories for them

to laugh about,

embellish or reimagine;

She requires from him

no special insights;

all she needs

is the fluency

of his hands,

the brush stroke

of his lips,

the ellipsis of

his caress.

He engulfs her

with such purity

of language, such

well-chosen vocabulary.

For this is

his language,

the one th…