It is raining butterflies.
They will land on my tongue.
I will taste their sweet nectar from blooms newly visited.
I will feel their flutter against my lips.
I will see their colors as if in a kaleidoscope I make my nest.
I will smell summer’s new morning upon their breath.
I will hear their sucking deep into my throat.
When once again they alight, their raucous beating wings
will leave me hungry for more.
In time, Magdalene will turn from her tears and rise
to the sea.
With the bitter nectar stinging her tongue
she will stay to tell of her loss.
She loved him bae.
If the butterflies were to stay
I would lose my mind.
Mariposa, estas ahi?
Used the prompt today from NaPoWriMo, Twenty Little Poetry Projects, but didn’t make it to twenty. Stopped at ten.
I was also influence by Frederico Garcia Lorca’s Mariposa. Here is my favorite reading.