kisses stir butterflies,
who flutter to the soul,
who takes the time to think,
can this be the real mate?
touches stir the heart,
beating rapid it waits for the soul,
who is still in thought,
unable to slow, the heart decides,
if the soul cannot, then i must.
silly heart, you best be right,
for this girl has been out of band-aids a fortnight,
and there isn't another pretty boy insight.