Rolling thunder amidst clouds with black lining.
No silver.
Fragmented dreams, hopes with no wings, backs bare.
I’m pulled under.
Here the air is thicker, the black darker.
Where is the light?
Please. I want it. I need it, the light!
Little kisses upon my skin,
Hitting with the delicate touch of a poison butterfly.
The soft quiver of the wing upon my cheek. Growing, growing!
Fragile beauty.
The ever-fluttering seas beating.
I’m not lonely. The presence is always there,
Pulsing through my veins, glowing from their wings.
I’m losing myself;
I’ve been touched by the poison butterfly.