Butterfly

May 29, 2013

Butterfly

I am tentative, unsure.
I hesistate.
Yet you, you know me
so well,
you sigh a moment,
and I whisper,
“You know
I get this way… this
is who I am.”
And you softly
smile.

Your hands on
my shoulders
are weights
at first.

And I shudder,
like that butterfly,
wings trembling,
ready to take flight.

But your smile is sure,
and you bend to
kiss softly
because you know
any harder caress
might excuse
my retreat.

And now, though
I’m still unsure,
your confidence
grows
and your lips
press mine, you
ease your tongue so
softly
I feel safe,
relax a tiny bit.

Your hands begin
to roam.
I sigh, breathe,
and soon I feel
the bed behind my knees,
urging me down, down
into a cloud of
comforter and warmth.

I fall.

It seems sudden,
I am bare
and befuddled by
sensation, and
momentarily
wonder how.

But now I am pinned
to the bed—
like a butterfly
pinned to a board—
by your tongue.

The warmth grows
until
a silent (amazing)
implosion
makes me forget
everything:
cares, worries.
Shyness.

And when we join
there is no more
hesitation.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s