Sweet.
When he saw her and she spoke,
His elusive butterfly of love
A shining, elixir and elements
which is life itself—life
See to be hurrying past
And his running away,
But it was a love too strong
To stop,
Too sweet to lose,
Too in loved to let her go.
He could not let her get away,
Oh god, What had he done.
A taste towards the decadent
And the evanescent, elusive
And evanescent; a rainbow
that has generated wonder
and speculation.
He was encapsulated and it was
A hifting moment, captured,
Like in the pop of a photographer’s
Flashbulb.
In the madness of the chase, he knew…
She would be his greatest challenge
For the mind receives a myriad
Of impressions.
Both trivial, fantastic and engraved
Like the sharpness of steel.
“Wait, who are you?
This is supposed to be my chance
to talk to her!” Whitey protested
as…
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