~Untitled~

flies of butter
can make,
my mind stutter
at the sight
of your smile,
sometimes
when the mood,
hits me right
and I'm
far,
away carried
it's like
nary, a care
when I catch
your stare
wayward,
lightly tossed
so coolly,
cavalier
I almost,
can't stand it
fingers hiding,
tightly crossed.
Chrissie 07.22-24.05