Each of us
has a butterfly collection
at heart
and every butterfly
is a love,
a lived love
a would be love
a longed for love
a suffered love
a dreamed love
a lost love.
They have velvet wings
that stroke one's face
and several colours,
like the sky
when it draws the sun
at sunset,
and if we are wounded by some thorns
whispers will take us far away,
far away
where sometimes we wish we could be,
on those velvet wings
between memories of loves
we cannot forget
and that we don’t want to forget,
that don't leave us
nor will they ever leave us,
memories we love
and that we shall love forever.

May 5, 2018