For the Breathless Poetry Contest of Constance la France
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“Maybe love doesn't come from the heart. Maybe it's a psychic jolt that wakes you when you touch them, leaving you breathless.” Christy Johnson Butterfly kisses and his breath upon my cheek. Racing heart of mine. I could not resist as he Enticed me with his gaze. Words he had no need to speak. Anticipation peaked when that angel boy kissed me, Thrilling me like I had not been thrilled before. Heaven-sent was he, for he melted my heart. Lavished with affection, I reveled in his ardor. Enchantment it seemed he practiced as high art. Such a surprise it was that he had come my way. So sweetly did he steal my breath away. How time has flown since then. I think of how Elation once whalloped me with a romantic WOW. Love comes and goes. I’ll never know Even now what happened to the young man who Fed my soul with sunshine’s happy glow. That all remains a bliss I cannot live anew. Magical is breathlessness. Sadly, that feeling Ends eventually, but how I long again to be reeling!
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