deepundergroundpoetry.com

BUTTERFLY

Time became oscillation
Indeed, a fruitless swaying
Of which there is no deviation
No bridge from tangents

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To watch her, perpetual
Death equilibrium
Absorbing the paradox...
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I can't save her...
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Corroded by rust of inevitability
Would any heart react the same?
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And every instance
That tarn of blood
Winnowed into my eyes
As a stream rejoins the sea
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That image remains as I leap
And I never sleep
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She knows nothing
Of how many selves I've held
And each time
I grow further from myself
Further from catharsis
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In their perception...
My descent into bedlam
Was instant
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And the dead fields of the past
I alone tend to the weeds
Back when I yet dreamed
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Enough of this...
The butterfly in my palm
I rip off its wings
You are no longer my passenger
I am no longer yours