7 ~ kisses vs. thoughts《nico》

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butterflies
are soft and delicate
much like
golden boy's kisses.

they catch me by surprise
every time I turn around
or if I'm just sitting there
on a rainy day
drawing
little hearts and happy trees
and accidental birds
like Bob Ross and
Rachel Dare.

he whispers to me
or sings at the top of his lungs,
and I love that I don't get shivers,
but instead,
I get little peaks inside his soul.

there is so much about him
about this
that I better start telling
so I will.
but for now,
fortunately,
he is kissing me again,
and I want to absorb the moment
and take pictures.

"my butterfly"
I whisper to him
and luckily
he does not hear me,
because if he did, I'd be
a blushing mess, sitting
in this metal chair
like a high school student
that I am Monday through Friday.
this is Saturday,
on spring vacation,
or so it seems.
I love my butterfly
more than he thinks,
but he can't know just yet
how much,
since I don't know the vise-versa
of the situation.

but enough explaining,
he is kissing me.

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