The beautiful coffee eyes reflection,
With that succulent latte poured on,
Foamy waiting to be sucked on,
Like a child sucks the tea from the centre cup,
In a puckered O shaped lip,
Could that be a baby's love?
Nicomachus would say:
If it stays it is love,
If it ends it's a love story,
If it never begins it is a love story,
Candide would say:
And if I keep chasing the butterfly
it eventually flies away,
But if I work on my garden, it stays.
Even if it flies away, definitely gonna hurt,
But then, my garden blooms.