I think about you two, three times a day—
That hollow where your shoulder met your neck;
The way your smile burned all my clouds away;
The way your frown made me a nervous wreck.
You had a beauty nothing satisfied.
Next to you, I felt like a caterpillar.
I couldn’t make you happy, though I tried—
But when I did, I was a giant-killer.
In all my life, you were the one cocoon
That stripped my shell away and gave me wings.
I learned to fly; I learned that the best tune
Depends on harmony, not just who sings.
You may be gone, but nothing really dies:
Thinking of you still gives me butterflies.
Copyright 2015 Matthew J Wells