He is Art, My Art

There is a guy out there, who lives nearly 6,500 km away from me, who just so happens to be the best person I know of.

The more I talk to him, the more I realise he’s the only person that I could possibly describe with the Italian word meraviglia. And even that term falls short of his grandeur.

He is a beautiful masterpiece; my very own piece of art, if you may. But he hasn’t got a clue about how much he’s worth, even if it is thanks to him that my heart overflows in love.

But here I am. Me. Flawed and imperfect. Trying my best to make him happy. Not only for a moment, but forever.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s