An artist of the Romantic movement

I'm a hopeless romantic when few still believe...    
The way you react to my touch is always unpredictable ...  
Goose bumps raised on your arms when I'm in your personal space...      
That burning sensation in your chest, when you see me walking towards you...      
The last song we listen to before the world woke us from our trance;    
                      it's still playing in my head...      
I can still smell you on my hands..      
Taste you in the back of my throat...    
   
I'm progressive, not nasty but I do enjoy seeing you exposed...      
I love seeing you let everything go...      
It's cute that you still try and hide your naked figure from me...      
As my shirt lays on your frame, buttoned just enough to keep it from falling to the floor...      
Your basking in the fact that your hopeless in love with me, the artist      
Yes, I'm an artist in drawing you out...      
Something that few get to see; they don't deserve to know the real you...      
Just don't overthink things...      
A feelings not suppose to be understood...      
     It's just felt...      
It doesn't annouce itself...      
With some luck you don't get out of its way...      
Sometimes, it last a life time ...      
Others ...      
      Just for a minute but the impression is life long …      
I am an artist of the romantic movement because you're the reason for my movements...