￼ Not meant for constraint Her words struck me Like a murder of butterflies The gentlest kill Brushes to the lips And a dusting to each cheek Beautiful, some called it A delicate touch Then like the chrysalis She’d emerged from She vanished Winter coming early The season of chills Yet, still, I searched And […]
Every butterfly was pure white, as though chippings of the moon had drifted to earth and toyed with the idea of landing. The tiny creatures fluttered around in the near darkness, a windswept nightscape of albino leaves. They’re colourless, said my sister. Not colourless, but colouring the evening, said I.
Millions of butterflies lay like multicoloured snowflakes on the lake. So many tiny insects were there, I felt I might walk from one shore to the next without ever wetting my feet. Like pooled petrol, they shimmered in death as they had in life. Why? Who cared. They just did.
All a flutter On silent wing I heard it not Delicate thing As brushed the hair Of she before It made her turn I did adore With bashful eye And charming wink She blew my mind What would she think But then her lips Did part to speak And honeyed words Made me complete As […]
“They are unusual.” I’ll never forget the old lady’s words as she led my sister and me to the cliff edge. “On your knees children, we don’t want any accidents.” We did as we were told and shuffled along side the woman we’d only just met. She creaked to one knee, then the other, […]