in the eyes of a butterfly

When she was mine

In the eyes of a butterfly
There I was standing at the door, and on the other side is the gazing end. A feeling of a waterfall roaring behind my ears, It’s your voice, angry. I guess we walked too far from the river that once swept me off my feet, when I fell deep and you stole my breath with a kiss wet of love. We lost something as clear and deep as any ocean trapped under ice, forever unable to dry. In the pain, I get cold and drown as I drop my heart when you toss it back to me in passionate cruelty of words, reminding me of some empty poem I read one early afternoon; when the air cried out for the blowing wind, and sails stood motionless, and like the boats in the very poem, our love was silent and motionless too. I reached for your hand and pulled away as you did.
The sweetest scent of all you used to whisper to me as I held you in a stormy night; Gone, with the gentle wind and a million beams of lights that once glittered at the edge of a dying autumn sun. I turn to hold the last breath of your voice and soul as a painter would a portrait, knowing he would never capture the same sunset and waves after a decade of winter clouds and a mist, drowning life, joy and warmth in the already fading chance, leaving both our hearts, in all the weeping and sorrow of what we had. Tears poured down your eyes-and even then, they were beautiful enough to stare at as they cast more pain on my heart, sparkling of sunlight as they vanished onto the floor. We were both part of a ghostly dream, of sweet, sad melodies and chapters; one that would forever haunt us in an endless-lifetimes.
I always thought of you as a butterfly-fragile, courageous and an attractive soul- that only sees and does beautiful, mysterious things. I walked off knowing I would forever long and miss being caught, in the eyes of a butterfly.