Does it still burn? Does it ignite? Is it now strong as it was might?
Crackle, crackle.
Light the firecracker.
Your eyes cut right into me as you sip your camomile tea. You put your cup down and ask me candidly.
Fluttery, fluttery.
Is that a butterfly in my tummy?
I did not mean to stare. Neither did I mean to make you scared. But do you know that despite the blushes your eyes do seem to glow?
Everywhere, nowhere.
Can you tell me if it's still there?
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