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Butterfly
by Tess Patricia Maxwell

My mind is adrift 
To where your face was sleeping 
Under the blanket of the sun. 

Trying to stay between 
The two white lines
Seems almost impossible.

You were following butterflies 
And I was catching them in my stomach.
Only setting them free once our time had ceased. 

Coming out of my own cocoon is time spent with you.
I would spend my days as a butterfly 
If it meant you followed me too.
        
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Poem ID: 89143   Poem Posted: 10/26/2016
Viewed: 677  Voted On: 0  E-mailed: 0  Commented On: 0
 
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