Smudge Me Into You

merge me, smudge me into you
like pastels on a rough Canson — undefined
edges bleeding (whisper secrets into
this moment) tender blues into
peach pinks, we blur and blend,
you seep into my pores, fill them, like acrylics
soak into canvas, bold and unapologetic

no lines just us and
the soft sway of color (do you feel it? the
shift of hue as we press closer) and breath
barely there
touches, warm, a lingering
brushstroke that says stay

the air between, thick as oil,
thins — each exhale a stoke that smears
softens the edges where you end (or do I begin)
dissolve like watercolors under a steady drizzle
unfixed, they run, an unmade painting
incomplete yet utterly alive

the silence not empty, but
full, the pause — just a breath
holding this, us, in suspended hues
waiting (for the next brushstroke?)
to define or leave untouched —
a sigh caught between hues.