kinding feelings

The sun undressed me, carelessly
Skimming over my imperfections
He said it was effortless because
I didn’t have any
Snapdragons alined by my side
Chattering inaudibly
Pinks, reds, yellow, whites
I hadn’t paused for any consequence
Adrift in blue eyes like
Beating butterflies like
Droning dragonflies like
The spiralling of kaleidoscopes    
Pressed firm to the eye
The grass was flattened
But only momentarily as
The migrate of worker ants stuttered
Confused by the decryption of their convoy  
The bees didn’t say anything
They carried on bathing in the pollen
of the petunias and the pansies
I admired the atmosphere, I admired myself    
Unlike myself, like another
Selfish to the obligations of euphoria