love it
(again... smoothly, he flirted with her) —
why would I want to be a paintbrush today... milady...(‽
πΌ
[and again...], (she butterflied... to him) —
perhaps your feelings want to interpolate with mine
for inserting your technique and poetic colors
to portray me as you love it...(‽)
πΌ
[at his turn...], (he butterflied to her, too) —
[pink peony are your lips],
[purple sky and beige of the universe is your wavy hair],
[the taste of blue sky is the reality seen in your eyes],
[while your body fragrance goes...]
well, — it will depend on the view of the watcher...