Poetry-PULLING at a BUTTERFLY

Hello, You are [insert name]. You are a butterfly. The more I think about it, the more you are. Suicide not by my hand, I don't want you to land. But, you are beautiful, so beautiful you are. Why would such a thing fall into my hand. It doesn't, you don't, you can't. You dance around and close enough, each cool tease another breeze. Take you away. But look! There you are. What beauty do I possess? The most I can expect is your curiosity. Why come back to this, something, about what? A desperate grab will send you in fright, a delicate pull and the damage begun. What magic powder rubs off? A brief moment of Flutter flight or a nourishment better well off? Ingest painful tunes in gestation. Laid an egg of mercy in your touch? ©DAVE J. FORCHETTE