In the Butterfly Pavilion

A Poem


This evening you said you wished

I was more conventional.

I bowed my head. I did not speak.

Outside the animals leaned together,

Breathing lightly; waiting

For my answer.

Cats-tongue ferns

Swelled up like swords, pushed out a stink

Occluding fields of vision while

The rabbit-bloodied lawn curled away. 

Phlox flamed  

Sows littered in the cyclamen

Dwarf stars broke free as

Frazzled molten ore raced across a sky

Darkening to night.

Summoning my power

My hands stay folded in my sleeves.

Nighttime is my kingdom.

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