Butterflies

I’s dotted with
little butterflies;
an era
the can never return.

As hands move
over bodies,
recognizing
veins traced in blue.

Figures shifting,
melting endlessly.
Finding places
that before were unknown.

Taking form
of a new meaning.
Grasping tightly
to the time today.

Relinquishing arrogance,
releasing all the petty vendettas,
burning the past
to finally see
the big picture.





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