Poem – Fluttering with your butterflies (By Fabrice B. Poussin)

Fluttering with your butterflies

 

The room is vast and empty,

with only she facing the tall glass;

standing she teases her hair once more;

peace seems to surround her.

 

Still then, she wonders as she dives

into her own soul, tingling inside;

her soft hand touching the womb;

a slight sigh, a smile and a memory.

 

In the corner, lost in this immensity

of barren walls, a window so far,

a door unattainable; in the distance

solidity fades, colors vanish into oblivion.

 

Tall, thin, in a light gown of stars and fairy dust,

apparition, a breeze heaves the adored breast,

her hair plays hide and seek behind her lobes,

tickles the shoulders; she tilts her head.

 

Another brush stroke, the lids wink in the mirror,

she knows the presence is near, tingles again,

her eyes close, the arms press against her sides;

the breath is of pleasure, it is of life, hers, simply.

 

[su_fabrice_poussin]