hey Mrs. Butterfly

i want to just say

that in all of my years

i’ve known of you

and the fire flies

lady bugs bumble bees

june bugs dragon flies

and most of God’s

perfect creations

when not hyper vigilanting

over my folks or the predators

my mind would drift away with you

the colors and the hues

the mechanisms made of truth

your wings and curly tongues

and the symbols afforded to you

from people who came before me

and the Egyptians how they loved

the beetle called the scarab

something to do with Khepri

and the rising sun

i believe it

i always have

i know i’ve let your beauty

and your meaning

float from my hands

but i want to say

that i’m ashamed

that i don’t know how

to describe you

my thoughts and my words

cold hollow and crude

those that have been prescribed

to me during my days of rebellion

in my eyes and in my memories

i can only describe the violets

on the hill as like the colors

of the bruising in the midnights

or the red of carnations

as the blood from my lips

for refusing to give in

or the grace in the flutter

of you the butterfly

in complete and utter silence

but before you send well wishes

and praises

i want to tell you

i’ve been no angel

i deeply hurt and failed to protect

the one who i should’ve loved first

but look it here

daisies and trees cacti

and geese all of the colors

in the rainbow high

and the moon and the stars

and Venus and Mars

i dig you man

and i’ve haven’t lost sight

that universe and the life in it

has always been beautiful in my eyes

even if the magazines

don’t think so

i know that i’m right

Mrs. Butterfly

i hope you can find it

in your perfect heart

to forgive me

for not being able

to knit you the

words that are worthy

of praise to your merit