i lack creativity for metaphor for i do not want to insult you with words said in past tense, as you would insult me with saying my love to you is like a flower or some shit like that.

i had a dream last night that you were sitting in the dirt drawing pictures with your fingers in the filth and i, not knowing the meaning, could not love you more,

i lack the creativity to compare you to something beautiful because i can say inane things like you are the definition of beauty for i would be offended if you said such a thing to me.

and in my head before i slept i thought of pressing my finger into your dimple till you could feel its pressure on your molars and then kissing your softness and smelling your cheeks,

i lack the creativity to make words rhyme and i would not want to restrict anything i mean to "a b a b" or "a b b a" or "a a b b" rhyme schemes; i would be highly perturbed.

yet i feel safe knowing that somewhere in this world some words you say coil around the drum of my ear and into the grey matter which sends signals to my heart to say

i lack all creativity to show you about how you mean the world or larger et cetera et cetera et cetera that you can show on paper splattered with different hues.

i do  not possess the kind of creativity one artist would show another

i do not