His Blue Period.

Her breath smells of the peppermint
tea, that we had drunk earlier,
when I tilt her chin to the light
on this late summer afternoon.

She smiles and her eyes come alight
with warmth that breathes into the room
from the open patio doors
that lead out into the garden.

I paid earlier, as we talked
and she said she could only stay
for two hours as she had to go
and pick up the kids from their school.

Now she lays upon the grey couch,
her clothes scattered across the floor,
staring at the fading shadows
that lap against my furniture.

Her skin is taut and slightly pink
with a blush that comes from unknown
eyes taking in her sad beauty.
She glances at the ticking clock.

I hesitate again, unsure
how to proceed with this aching
need to capture all that she is.
To place her soul onto flatness.

Time is passing, time is money,
I am hesitant at first as
I fumble around her body
with my scraping charcoal smudges.

“Take your time” she whispers to me,
“Don’t rush it, or you will spoil it”.
then sable kisses flutter on
my desperate canvass of blues.