I’m 100% sure that your body stopped running on sleep a long time ago,
Late night air has been breathed into your lungs,
As you haunt our spots looking for traces of me.
And food is a memory,
As your stomach is filled instead with images–
Images of my eyes when you held my hand,
And told me they would do something great one day–
Images of me laughing,
And touching your face–
Images of me,
As I bare my soul naked before you.
Now, I’m sure your body runs on the butterflies in your stomach.
Their silk wings strike the light and illuminate the colors of royal blue, golden yellow, and deep deep red,
The colors of me and you.
They fly from your stomach and up through your blood stream,
Into the cavities of your veins,
You can hear their journey beneath your skin.
The air from the movement of their wings keep your heart beating,