The Artist

((An incomplete mental process))

I check your lyrics
And even listen to your songs
Making sure I'm last on your mind
When your pen meets pad
I know how your mind works
Just one opportune moment
And I'm all yours
Swallowed in your colorful metaphors
Dangling in your presence, like a reward for you to receive

I'm waiting for that one track
The one you regurgitate for me
Throw away the pride
And lett your tongue seduce my mind with your rhyme
Attempting to pull on my heart strings
Toy with fiction & truth
Until the lines are blurred

I'm waiting on you to play me
Like I've played you
Turned you upside down in poetry
Dusted over your name
Rewrote your story for you to remain unknown
Even between these lines your vanity won't find the truth

Being that you're an artist
It doesn't matter what I describe you to be
The manipulator of abstract things
To create something tangible or usable is still your gift

Even as I write
I picture you
Slidding your tongue across your teeth
Fixing your teeth to ask
"Is this one about me?"
But you won't
Because you know

I'm just waiting on you...
That one track
In which you
Open your mouth
And let your tongue fondle my name
Create space for music to seep in
That song will be on infinite replay...