Butter Fly wings
float near my face
and this softest breeze
reminds me of the way
your lips brush mine,
not touching
but close-by
fluttering;
.
gentle usherings
planting butter-fly kisses
on your red mouth
pursed
in the filtered sun.
Butter me,
Butter Fly me
and I will land
where softer souls gather
in butterfly-kissed
kaleidoscopic fields
close to home
where gentle hands
stroke my brow
whilst I inhale
eternity
kissing the face
of Love True.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem