I was not a poet, and you were not my muse, but I found beauty in everything you did from the way you slept to the way you breathed

I was not an artist, and you were not an artwork, but I found beauty in everything you did from the way you looked at me to the way you made me feel

I was not a poet, I was not an artist, but I was wrong you were my muse, you were artwork. Everything, from the way you spoke to the color of your eyes was worthy of my attention, it was worthy of a book, it was worthy of a paint. It was worthy of everything because you are an artist's dream and a writer’s best history.