My blue notebook

If you would draw me
one single picture
simplistic or detailed
from it I would write
words that would impress.
You would see through
my lines of lust
to the heart of the matter.
I'm aware that your art
may well waite on mine
thereby slowly slipping away.
Yet this love for you
paralyzes me with fears
I've not known before.
I feel you curiously
looking at my blue notebook,
trying to catch a glimpse
inside my pen's process.
I walk away
leaving it wide open
knowing you'll be laughing
when I return.
Perhaps instead you'll
pick it up
and draw me a picture.