My Lover, She Is A Butterfly

A poem

My lover, she is a butterfly
Who thinks herself a chrysalis
A belly-crawling caterpillar
Turned into goop

Perhaps, long ago
But I see towering wings
Of lightning blue and raging violet
And eyes that see in a thousand directions

And when a mouse comes to scare her
The shockwave of her flight knocks me down
Breathless, weeping

My lover, she is a butterfly
Beautiful and striking
With eyes that see in a thousand directions
But she does not see herself —
Yet.

This poem is another one about my girlfriend. The butterfly is her favorite symbol that I think stands for self-transformation. Sometimes she forgets that she’s already complete. I’m sure she’s not alone in that, so I shared this.

Thanks for reading!

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