the butterflies flutter their wings
the music to the romance that gently began
slow dance nipping at my soul
how easy it was to talk, blast my naiveté
paint me a picture of rain cooling my sunkissed skin
eskimo kiss and a peck on a forehead
a friendly reassurance
but i want more, the eagerness frailly contained
engage me with your touch
let the run become wild and reckless
let the ingrained caution flee its co-op
hindsight of short-lived bliss and infatuation
but let it be ours, let it be mine
for once, let it exist
novice to the noise of love and desires
the tyrant with tame voice
singing inside of me, fireworks and all that nonsense
but i want my body weightlessly drift to the ground
as the impact soothes a lullaby
and i’m in a celestial realm sinking into your skin

don’t let go

© simon whittle — from lovers’ tiff: a ballad