our conversations
was
funny and fervent
our relationship
was
soft and sweet
our love
was
humble and honest
she was my Butterfly
on my finger
she stood fragile and beautiful
one bad move and
gone.
her and my conversations
are
desolate and dead
her and my love
is
absent and obsolete
she is my Butterfly
on my heart
she stands independent and hurt
one bad move and
gone.