Stone Butterflies

 

My soul has quivered in anticipation

As your fingertips lightly brushed over my skin.

My body has trembled in exhaustion

As I gazed up at your face, holding our newborn.

My stomach has jumped with butterflies

As you give me that look from across the room.

My senses have exploded in absolute pleasure

As your arms enfold me while making love.

 

But now the quivering anticipation has turned to dread,

The trembling exhaustion has become merely sorrow,

As the butterflies turn to stone and sink to the pit of my stomach.

The explosions no longer pleasure, but the sounds of my world,

Rocked and devastated, crumbling around me,

As I envision those same arms holding somebody else.

Author's Note

first draft...

Reviews

[David]

It's a very good first draft. I like the idea of/for this poem. Such a common feeling that everyone feels at some point in time right? And it is written so well too. Good job.