in the beauty of tragedy

"sweet little alchemist..."
he whispered
"did you always believe that butterflies were white?
phantom tipped?
& singed with the solace of love?"

"sometimes."
I sighed
"sometimes the sparrow's breath kissed my lips
& I forgot this place wasnt heaven."

it's unsobering..
the days that passed since I wandered fraying tourniquets
& angel stitched
.......I watched the rivers burn
& danced in the alchemy of backwards reveries

............ fairytale
.fractured.