its like breathing

fragile and faint

such an

innate ability breathing and loving.

 

except

when you love instead of

dust particles being exhaled

its the many little butterflies you feel when he calls your name

 

accompanied with the stars  that cross your eyes

when you see him

 

in the distance

 

sort of like the lighthouse shining in the night

beckoning the sailors to shore

 

he becomes your beacon

all because you inhale his iridescence

to exhale stars that outnumber the air particles, and the

same amount of butterflies.

all of which that can’t be caught

by a telescope or a net

only by his arms

 

outstretched

when your fall

for him

has him

fall

for you too.