like being graced by the presence
that of a butterfly.
brief, short. but
ever so special.
so beautiful that for
a moment you believed
you were, too.
simply because
it picked you. how could it
something so delicate think
to even alight upon a trifling floater.
a nomad. vagabond. meandering through this
loaded heart with such apathy.
pity. such an enchanting organism chose
to settle for a soul with
a zest in life so minute,
akin to a futile microorganism.
but 'twas brief,
as the butterfly fluttered away
you become insignificant once more. not
special neither beautiful. you lost
your spark, remaining lackluster throughout the
wreckage of your feeble heart.
