butterflys

I remember, quiet clearly,
every time someone said you name butterfly's would apaer in my stumoch
every time you called,
or we hugged.

i remember, quiet clearly,
the day the butterfly's  left, and with them flew away my smile,
i tried to reach for it, but it slipped from my wet grasp, dampened with tears.

that last inbox,
that last kiss,
i remember it as clear as day,
savoring it,
so warm,
so inviting,
it was then i had butterfly
know all i have are fly's..
feasting on the broken wounds of thy heart