Like an aerial butterfly flutter
The same your lips are caressing my face
And so my mind is lost in a clutter.
As a storm produced by butterfly grace
On environment acts out of control
So the sweet contact of lips can efface
My brain completely as a Champagne bowl.
A miracle is which makes me nutter
But it is love which just enters my soul.
As an aerial butterfly flutter
Renders my mind as lost in a clutter.
Copyright © Mario DE PAZ | Year Posted 2015