The Tears of the Butterfly (Poetic Stories)

“I wish we could live forever,” I said, staring out at the silver moon in the black water beneath us. It shivered, uncertain, more of my own reflection than of that still silver face. You squeezed my hand, and we turned to look at each other, but the affection in your green eyes was unbearable, so I shut mine and kissed you on the mouth, slowly and sweetly, like the verses trickling from the stars above us. For in that moment, I wasn't afraid of dying. I wasn't afraid of anything, except of losing you and love — the only fear, it occurred to me, that an immortal man would have.

Are my words worth a woman's touch
I wonder while I wait
as I fish them from a wishing well
with wise ones hung as bait
As if I had some power there
or I could blush a cheek
a mind makes meager magic
to pretend a man's not weak
Because at your feet I'd kneel so hard
I'd cleave the earth in two
To show you that I'm not powerless
there's nothing I can't do
So what say you to my words
is that all I'm meant to be
throwing poems into this river
hoping they can swim at sea.