I should have known
the way he drifted past mirrors
his reflection just a hint
above nothing like the sun before dawn
but his kisses moistsweet as dew
prove to hard to resist
so here I am
aloft above the solemn shape of his love
little deaths are his speciality
and like the caged bird
I'll still sing
even with my heart torn open.
Butterfly
10.15.05
Original Post