I want to paint the taste of a rich Lindor chocolate slowly melting on my tongue,

I want to paint the impossibility of pigs flying majestically  across the galactic Milky way,

I want to paint the screeching sound of a maple and mahogany violin being played in the wrong man’s hands,

I want to paint the distance between my lips and my coffee cup filled with a Strawberry Frappuccino from Starbucks,

I want to paint the smell of succulent sausages sizzling on my brick, black barbecue,

I want to paint the end of this poem…