When butterflies collide at da bottom of my abdomen in my belly because of the sensations felt by my heart,its defined as a crush,but I wasn't crushed by the thought of him that made me blush.....my fall was unrehearsed,but I rehearsed what my lips would recite from the script of my heart. He's my soul seed,watered by thoughts of what could be,should be,would be,and grows each day into a yearning bringing forth fruits of desire and lust and falling to a spirit who knows not how I feel. His eyes,da window to his soul,but it was his mouth that spoke of it,a soul that matched mine. Can u read in between the lines,and pick out the collision of the butterflies at the bottom of my abondomen in my tummy and make my heart content?