Butterfly Kisses

The first time I felt, it was for strawberry stained lips and honey-coloured curls.
She smelt like the ocean and tasted like sunlight.
Not that I ever tasted her.
She opened her eyes and she was midnight, her tongue dripped gold and when she spoke, music streamed out.
She did everything with fire and left everything around her crackling.
She was everything I never knew I wanted.

Every day she passed.
Every day I rose,
with the desire to see her; she had become my only purpose.
Her sunset streaked hair bounced as she danced across the sidewalk.
Because she did nothing without grace,
like an artist, every footstep was a melody.
She smiled as I drew towards her, with her moonlight smile.
She reached for me, her milky-light skin so close.
I wanted to embrace her, to touch her body and feel her eyelashes flutter against me.
Her smile filled my body with the urge to drown, anything to wash away the colour that pulsed through me every time I saw her.
The urge to fly away into the clouds, her sunset hair flowed in the wind as she held on to me.
I imagined she tasted like starlight, everything forbidden and desired in one kiss.
If only I could spend the rest of my fleeting existence lost in her gaze.

But I could not hold her, I could not feel her warmth.
Because every day, as quickly as she came, she disappeared.
I could only ever watch her, watch as she twirled across the property away from me.
Every day I followed her until I could go no further,
until my body weakened and all I could do was return to where it started.
Where I first fell in love.
Where I first dreamt of her smile and sugar-sweet kiss,
Where I could offer her nothing, but butterfly kisses.