|
If I could don you
like I did my clothes,
the night you showed me
how to loose one's senses
in a lover's arms.
Alas,
unlike attire,
you cannot be shed.
For inside
my throbbing, pining heart,
where my secret thoughts are kept,
thats where you reside.
Until one morning,
along will come a day,
when memories of you and me
will be a yesterday.
Butterfly.
|