Love

I can not say that it is clear to me,
but I feel it as an impulse current.
The chest of his heart is narrow
and every blow is raging.

In my stomach - a swarm of butterflies -
intoxicated with the wings,
and they strike, they turn like crazy,
dancing ritually with gentleness.

And the image alone pursues me
and I see him wherever it is not,
on romantic streets follow me,
even changing my worldview.

Every everyday life is breathed,
and he is there - in pure dew,
in moments thirsty for timelessness,
in the birth even in an arc.

And he is there - even in the silence,
in the bundle of rays of new,
in the longing to feel the heat ...
sensationally ... I call it "love".

Goodbye and Kisses ...