your eyes

i am your artist and you are my muse. 

i approach to painting those sun-kissed eyes. 

i try, and i try again, and again, and again. 

"forgive me my dear", for these mere sticks of 'coal cannot, in the slightest bit, capture the indescribable beauty your eyes withhold. 

you are my artist and i am your muse. 

i snatch away your pencil and sit at your easel. 

i try, and i try again, and again, and again. 

"i drew you a little something", but i could not, in the slightest bit, reach the height of admire i found for me in your emerald eyes.