we go out after the first storm
like explorers in new terrain, and
these steps are gentle and uncertain,
this world is new.
it is still grey but you point to a patch
of sun between the clouds and say,
*that's what you look like beside
everyone else* and i used to think
i stuck out like a **** in the midst of flowers
but you make me feel like i am a butterfly
amongst unchanging caterpillars.
a gust of wind pushes rain drops off the
tree leaves - they cling to your mouth like
fresh dew or sweat beads, and i
want to kiss them clean
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 11:00 AM UTC
we go out after the first storm
like explorers in new terrain, and
these steps are gentle and uncertain,
this world is new.
it is still grey but you point to a patch
of sun between the clouds and say,
*that's what you look like beside
everyone else* and i used to think
i stuck out like a **** in the midst of flowers
but you make me feel like i am a butterfly
amongst unchanging caterpillars.
a gust of wind pushes rain drops off the
tree leaves - they cling to your mouth like
fresh dew or sweat beads, and i
want to kiss them clean
i look at you and after two years it still feels like falling in love for the first time
Request permission to use this poem