lunes, 7 de noviembre de 2011

descontrol

yesterday she must have been a butterfly
yet here she slugs along, balancing act on a wisp of a green leaf
some psychotic seesaw just weak enough to bow this way and that under
the weight of her bulbous caterpillar body
yet...yesterday she must have had wings
the SWOOSH of spiraling upwards
spirit and diaphanous body one and the same

today the wind and the sunlight slant are her enemies
harsh rays make perfectly plain her design
as the other winged creatures flit and pirouette
wounding her, oblivious in their own rambunctious ecstasy

her joyless compromise
because nature flip flops and somersaults, toying with her form
she learns to breathe in any body
knowing not what she'll be tomorrow

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