A butterfly story

I was walking.
Thought I should run.
And I started running.
I was glad to flash past faces,
turned and waved at them.
And I rolled on.

Something caught my eye.
And my head refused to turn straight.
I slowed down.

It was a butterfly.
A white one.
It was beautiful.
And it smiled at me.
I walked. It tagged along.

We spoke. And spoke. And spoke.
I thought it needed me.
And I needed it.
And we spoke.

The butterfly found flying hard.
The wind hurt. Its wings hurt.
It rested on my shoulder.
And we moved on.

It had its shadow on me.
And it felt safe that way.
I had my thoughts on it.
And I felt love that way.

There was peace.
It slept.
There was music.
And I danced.

The wind is calmer now.
I don know why,
It wants to fly.
And it flew.

I wanted to jog along.
But it didnt let me.
That hurt.
I walked.

It came back.
Saw me frown.
It smiled.
So did I.
And it flew.

It is watching me from a distance.
It wants to fly.
Not away from me.
Not with me.

There is something that doesnt let it fly away.
Something that doesnt make me run away.
I walk.
And I want to run.
With music and dance.

I know I would.
Sun rises in the east.
Well, really?
Venus, the goddess of love, smiles.