Butterfly Scar 2

Butterfly, as you emerge,
Your bleeding ink on my skin, like
Paper soaked in milk
At night.

Oh, how she cries,
Alone in darkness.
Butterfly, you are
Her only companion.
The flutter-beats
Of your breast
Penetrating nothing but
Delicate beads
On the wrist of a tree,
Brittle limbs bending almost
But not quite far
Enough to break.

Butterfly,
Accept my apologies,
As I lament your subtle death
By Blue
Tile and water.

I shed your
Flutter-heartbeat
Wings, cerulean energy,
And replaced you
In effigy, on to the
Tissue paper
That melts away
When I bathe.

Scarlet warriors
Trample the fragile
Yellowed and
Paper-thin
Membrane of
My being.

Butterflies float idly
On my milky
Cotton breaths
Until we can
Together release
All the tension
In fingertips, wings.

Butterfly, I thought
You were
Evidence of hope, and freedom,
So I am sorry;
I marred your
Innocence by forcing you into
Such heresy, as if you were
Negatives of a photograph,
Proclaiming what never was.

Oh, how I apologize, for
I deprive you of
Your cotton breeze
Until together we must melt
Away.