Salt-Water Butterfly

eyes gleam
boiling-blood-red.
swell around the edges
irises pop,
out.

eyelids fitfully droop.
blink
once twice
wash away
the sting.

there is a single bubble
blossoming.
peeks out from fine hairs,
swelling
a cocoon.

it gives birth
to a butterfly
weaving this way
and that.

running, tripping.
the face wobbles
lips shifting astray
pressing together.
once and twice
and thrice again.

the skin lids press down.
more cocoons.
nose starts to weep, eager
to embarrass,
hands drift up.
they cup.

they press against and
squash every insect they can
to kill them,
to kill kill
them.