At the traffic light I looked down and saw you a scrap of white fluttering by my shoe. I opened my hands to you and cupped them over one another and thought I was carrying your heart: astonishing, lovely, tentatively fluttering I whispered between my hands to you that i had found a beautiful place a hedge blooming with flowers. A perfect bower for your moth-heart.
for my Dad, i don't know if he'll get to see this or not