Thursday, September 16, 2010

What am I holding on to?
A butterfly?
Should I let it free?
You don't have the heart to.
But I should; for the one month it gets to live a life of its own.
It always did.


The plea in the eyes are not being seen. Not being. Should the sockets be emptied? The soul killed? The head rationed?

The moon summoned?

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