You have painted me in love. There are invisible tracings all over me. It is a path, a map. Only you can see.
Your breath a dangerous brush that paints the canvas of my body in ownership.
The places that you visit belonging only to you.
The tool you use to paint me doesn’t matter. Be it your hands, your fingertips, your lips, the very breath in your body. It is all the same. It draws me to you, envelopes me in you.
I am bound to you, drowning in feelings and sensations. I am truly, yours.
Painted by your lips, traced by your fingers, bound by your hands. Capsized in your heart.
Qu’est-ce que je ferais sans toi?