When you call me yours
Butterflies poke out
of fresh cocoons
and spread their wings
wide
And flutter
endlessly inside
doing somersaults
and kick puppa licks
and fancy boom flicks
from end to end of my being
Causing tiny little bumps
to appear on my skin
I'm simply
goosepimply
and blushing bright red
right through my melanin rich
complexion
harkening the conception
of a most wonderful thought
and fabulous idea
making my words
turn onomatopoeia
cause I feel so
mm mm good
knowing that you call me yours
Not in possession
though somewhat possessed
Owning up to feelings
So easily confessed
I am humbled by association
And filled with pride
Knowing I am called yours
When I stand by your side.
(c) 2010 L. Ashwood