like lace these fragile flapping wings,
new born from the chrysalis, pale butterfly
drying under a yellow sun, bright burning

full of life, vibrant, short lived, time burning
stretching out its virgin wings
clinging to a tender stem, this butterfly

climbing upward to your journey, butterfly
prepare to fly away, as I, burning
with desire to touch, with care, your wings

an awful thought, lost dust, wings burning, butterfly