Handcuffed by Wings

My heart starts and stops at the sound of butterfly wings.
Her fluttering flight mimics my heartbeat
as she flies past me at the speed of wonderment.

If I wanted to escape the hold she has on me I could not,
for I never know where and when she will appear
to sit near me to whisper words
mere mortals are not meant to understand.

In sweet agony I find myself handcuffed by wings
of a gentle jailer from whom I seek no release,
to be set free would be a harsher punishment.
Oh what was life before the winged one landed near me?