My Art?

So, I see you, in the portrait that you have painted of yourself.
But oh my dear boy, don't you remember, you borrowed those colors from me?

You may ask, why, oh why, did I loan out my inimitable colors to you?
No, I don't have a reply, none whatsoever, save that, I love you...

In my dreams, several times, I have painted you, your face, your smile,
In hues unknown, in shades resplendent, all of it my creation.

That's not how it is, is it? For you have it fixed, have it all planned,
And when I see her smile, her hair, so secure, I fall, out of love,
Or try to...

Love, strange, love bizarre.
Love irrevocable.
For you.
And distress,
In my life.

You shall never be my
Art.

I shall be a star, staring down at a river below.
I shall be a scar, among the wrinkles that age on you, will bestow.

I shall be lurking , beneath your smiling eyes
I shall be planting, soft kisses on your hands, under dreamy October skies.

You shall never be my
Art.

Not my art.
But my love.
My life,
Forever.

Causing heartaches,
Bruising my fantasy-lores.

I have woven satin nights for you,
I have seduced the fallen angels for you...

For you,dear Luke.
I am your fool.