Have I told you about the way
your heart sounds like the wings
of the butterflies in my stomach when I see you?
Or how your teeth shine like
ivory piano keys when
you say nice things to me?
But they’re crooked boards
in a sinking room when you
scream words that make my ears hurt.
The one’s that turn my butterflies
into stinging bees and
make my emotions rise to my throat.
But I wouldn't give
any of it up.
Because bees make honey.
And you can hide secrets
under the floor boards.
And that’s worth a million
stupid piano keys.