My First Love

Her thoughts are like the strokes of a paintbrush,
Painting the perfect picture in my mind’s eye.
She opens the window to my cerebrum, ha,
The resulting draft blows my mind.
I dance to her Hip-Hop heart beat,
And I sing along to her Neo-Soul.
She vibes to blue rhythms, yeah
and rocks out to rock & roll.
She speaks in poems and talks in riddles.
She even writes a little.
Her voice dances upon my ears.
It’s graceful and elegant to hear.
Her speech is like classical ballet.
but her whisper is like a slow waltz.
Her vocal chords out-range a piano.
When we converse it becomes a sweet melody,
Resembling that of Gospel choir harmony.
The works of her hands are pure artistry.
Her name is like deep, smooth grooves,
That a craftsman has etched into my heart.
She will always be my first love,
My first love’s name is Art.