Beloved woman, you are so far away today!
Unreachable how long my arms may be.
Unreachable, no matter how loudly I cry out my pain of longing into the world.
How many times have I enjoyed the look of your alert, shining eyes; how often I felt one with you
If I could paint, I would paint your face as I see it in front of me
Your face with the laughing, shining eyes that give me a reason to live, work and dream again and again!
I would paint your lips that touched me so tenderly.
That mouth that whispered so much tenderly into my ear but also expressed so gently and definitely criticism.
I would add your neck and shoulders.
This neck that is so sensitive to my kisses.
These shoulders that pull me to you alone when your evening dress exposes them or just your everyday t-shirt has slipped.
Oh yeah! And your breasts would perfect this picture.
Soft hemispheres that have given my hands so much pleasure with every touch.
I could never defend myself against this reflex, to press it, to knead it.
Long and hard - in an excited state - I would represent their peaks. Just as they almost cut a notch in my tender tongue.
The painting would also adorn the sensual curve of your slim waist, towards the stronger hips.
I wouldn't use a brush.
No, I would let them arise with my fingertips dipped in color!
Alone, to reawaken the feeling that I feel when my fingertips trace exactly this curved line on your body.
Your belly should and would show the softness that my head enjoys when it is used as a gentle, tender and sensual pillow.
Then my painting fingers should move on. Down to your wonderfully pronounced Venus hill. You resist.
This triangle that points to the most intimate area of your body.
I didn't want to paint it.
No, because I just want to have a look, a touch of this area for myself.
Oh yeah! In the picture in front of my closed eyes, every pore is so clear.
But in a picture of you?
Yes! I would paint your wonderfully long legs as they lie slightly on top of each other.
I would treat the viewer to this.
He can imagine the rest of the details.
These well-formed thighs, when they open, embrace me.
He can imagine it. I would not paint it.
This area is reserved for our love.
The complete union of two bodies and two souls at the same time
in love, lust and tenderness.
Oh, could I paint, beloved woman ......