The Butterfly and the LoverMature

My dear little poem, I know how much
You want to be sexy, And I know why. 
I know that you just want to feel loved, you
Just want to feel beautiful.
You tone down nuances, show too much skin,
Because you want to be noticed instead
Of being passed over. It may seem that you
Are the only one not being held tight.
But these readers you desire are reckless,
Flitting from one poem to the next,
Giving up if the story gets complex,
Wanting simple pleasure, not love.
 There are careful readers out there,
Who will trickle their hands and minds
Gently, lovingly through your pages and words,
Sedulously measuring each sound, word,
Phrase, sentence, love. That is what you want.
But these careful readers will pass you by
If you give away too much, so there
Is nothing to dig for, no eloquent clothes
To peel from you, he will move on.
My dear little poem, as much as I hate clichés,
As many as I strip like old paint from my life,
Be yourself. 

The End

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