You are…

So the question is not if I can see you, for the possibility of peering through the flesh is impossible and you are far from invisible…

For all of the world to see… the people walk by… I stop, staring to appreciate…

My what you mean to me…

In mere seconds the amount of time given to me on this earth decreases, yet the value in spending time in connection gifts time belonging only to me as I stand before you removing layer upon layer with my eyes to see you all the while becoming naked myself…

Beyond sex and the intimacy of a kiss is a look at you with both intensity and vulnerability for to do so bears the contract of a willingness to be seen just the same…

You are the art of work, of experience, of pain, of happiness, of love, of life lived… you are a work of art.