Monday, August 15, 2011

Butterfly Wings 10-00

Butterfly Wings brush my cheek
     and I begin to tremble and ache
Words dissolve and melt
     in the fire from the least of touches

Locked in my mind
     thoughts coalesce then dissipate
Lost in the gentle brush
     of fingers across my cheek

You ask me what I feel
     I do not know
I can not say
     I haven't even told myself yet

But I grow weak and tremble
     with a mixture of desire and fear
when words and thoughts dissolve
     in the seduction of Butterfly Wings 

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