The butterfly wings move like lungs
Breathing
Tiny feet scare her away
She is halfway through her day
A hundred soldiers upset the bridge
They run
I run
But the soldiers move
It is their duty
I have none
Do you know where I am I ask
He says yes
I am not sure
I think the moon is in the curtains
But it’s just the light
Electric. Wire. Finger prints
All the right elements
The woman lies under the bridge
Coke. Pills. Police
All the right elements
They rest their arms on the car window
Like she is worth words
I sit in the chair
The garden is nice
Green. Thick. Moist
All the right elements
She asks me to talk
I find I no longer have words for the thing that has become
my story
There is blood underneath the butterfly wing
I stroke her
She is almost at the end of her day
I cradle her. Talk. Soothe
Fill her little head with a cushion of words
Banter like wing beats
To stop her hurting
To help her rest
Do you know where you are I ask her
And she smiles
Her wings gently fold in my fingers
We are here
We are here
We are here.
