It the night, my speech is singular
Only specks of light are my allies
Light years away
I wish I could fly away
Concord paper planes center no fly zones
Spirit, heavy on the bones
Contorts structures to irregular forms
Laterally inverted, I cant recognise myself.
Picturesque spring
I saw butterflies
Swayed one not to flutter into the panaroma
I knew it would impair her
Moths eat her wings in the closet
"Daddy, why doesnt she fly no more?"
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