Non Ho Farfalle

Butterflies

Those tuggings and

Pullings at leads

And tendons

And lungs

Begging for action

Divine in the moment

Made to break the next day

Because

We aren’t all fed

On myths and moonlight

These things are needed,

In mind,

Mind,

For solace and inspiration

And getting upright

Some days

But most days

Hard days

Sad days

That not even

Butterflies will fix

Mercurial moths

That show you one

Form then

Leave in another

Not light

Not gentle

As their name

Promises

But toothy like wolves

Weighted down

Like

A sinking ship

Surrounded by

Sharks

Instead

A bowl of pasta

Set for me

A extra large sweatshirt

Smells unlike me

a sit down

A trust that

Isn’t questioned

On paper or

In mind,

Mind

We don’t

That’s the wings of

A thousand

Not under your lungs

But beneath your feet

Grateful for solidity

Solidarity with space

And heart

And truth

Warm, Wrapped in wool

Not fragile gossamer

Held in arms

Strong as oak

Living with

Steady

Giving

Knowing

And known

smiles

Rather than butterflies

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