I thought he was quite handsome,
fluttering back and forth importantly,
showing off those vibrant colours
on his tiny, fragile wings.
So endearing when he started
following me around. I wondered
if it was my perfume which
deliciously smells like summer.
He never left my side, even after
I went back inside, he just
settled in a safe distance and
stared at me in a pensive manner.
‘Look at you’ he said all of a sudden.
‘You’ve become boring. All earnest and
always busy. Where did your smile go,
and what happened to your soul?’
And I got a little defensive, not sure
if I still liked that cheeky rascal.
I really have no time for this when life
is pushing me this way and that.
After all, he is just a butterfly.
What does he know about