I have forgotten the taste of love; the sound of silence
slowly filling uncertain futures.
What was that feeling of exhilaration? How did my mouth form
those strange syllables?
My tongue craves those dripping afternoons.
In your own time, come back to me.
Gently shake me from this blurry space and illuminate my
dreams.
In your own time, come back to me.
Your love is a butterfly I watch from the corner of my eye. A thing so shy it flits away at the feel of my gaze. Dreams of its travels torment my mind. How I wish I could flutter towards it as gracefully as it moves. How I wish it would hold still for me, give me a second chance to feel its wings brush my skin. How I wish it is me it seeks every time it rises into the breeze.
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