On the Absence of Butterflies and FlamesA Chapter by Constance-OutspokenInspired by a conversation with the conversant who most inspires me.
Where before flutterings took wing
convincing pattering heart to swoon, lips to tremble, hands to quake, residence is taken by something re-countable as perfect peace. When once hot fingers of desire scorched their way through every cell; caused dark, breathless anticipation; the soul finds footing, shall aspire to completion, communion in your form. How deliciously the hours are passed relishing completion finally found, satisfied unequivocally, not smothered by vapid inundation that shan't last. I miss not those flittings nor flickerings. Why do we all seek butterflies and flames when each is doomed to die so very young? © 2010 Constance-OutspokenFeatured Review
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Added on March 15, 2010Last Updated on April 29, 2010 AuthorConstance-OutspokenWho wants to know where I am, when who I am is all that matters?, KSAboutMeh. I write crap. I write crap because I've always been alone. more..Writing
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