butterflies.

You give me butterflies. The bright yellow ones that shine like the sun, that sparkles as it hits the edge of the earth. The orange ones that are like tangerines, opening the peel the juices dripping down your chin, leaving sticky droplets of sugar. The red butterflies that remind me of ariel's hair from The Little Mermaid, swimming in the bath tub. The purple ones like the popsicle that turns your lips a dark tint. Pretending that its lipstick making it that much deeper, as if you have been sitting in ice cold water and everything around you has grown numb. The green that the butterflies land on, soft fresh cut grass from the lawn mower. The smell as it comes through your window as you're taking a nap, the sun shining in, warming you so there is no need for a blanket. The flowers that dance around the butterflies, golden hues and cherry-pie colored goodness. The butterflies land softly, not even moving the flower. It gives it its presence and then goes to the next, like a hooker on the corner. They come and float around, moving with the wind, catching the rays as it lands gracefully on every corner of your heart.