Calligraphy Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

He uses me as his canvas of expression,
his velvet brush dripping with the ink of desire.
The inkwell is endless, and it flows with passion.
Graceful words are emblazoned upon flesh like fire.

He writes poems of love on petals of my skin;
and I am breathless, blossoming beneath his brush.
With lightning-quick movements, with a swirl and a spin,
he paints me beautiful with a delicate blush.

As his brush runs dry, I can almost hear him think
of the liquid language that abounds in our love;
and again, he sinks into the glistening ink -
his calligraphy written in heaven above.