Artist

He's an artist,
portraits mostly, because
he always told me he liked to study faces
and perfecting expressions
formed from tiny, minute changes
in the facial features
is his hobby
and most of the time he
creates beautiful, wonderful things
that make me fall in love with him
all over again

...but he's always looking for perfection
and never finding it.

You see, I guess he must see something
in me
that he doesn't like
because its the only explanation
I can muster for why
he paints my body with angry blotches
of purples and blues that slowly
fade to yellows and then disappear
because just like a painting,
I am not perfect,
and he is obsessively,
compulsively, trying
to fix me.

I'm scared, though
because though he tries and tries
so hard with his paintings
he is never completely satisfied,

and I know
I can't be fixed,
and one day maybe he will get tired
of trying
and leave
and
what
will
I
do
then?