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The Quiet Thoughts of Butterfliesshe says "I'm worried if I breathe
too loud the silence will
I watch her hands press butterfly
wings between the pages.
does she know that
I'm the queen of silence?
my corpse lungs and
graveyard lips; a decomposing
tongue lurking behind white-washed
tombstones. paint me with sunbeams,
I'm still the same.
[death warmed over]
her tropic gaze rakes over
the bone-white snow. "I keep
swallowing the snow-flakes. they
remind me of frozen flowers.
their dead sweetn
Prays for Loveflowers bloom
over my knees, where they've been kneeling too long to
beg, where they think of joining the ocean's
rocky kneecaps and huddling on the shore,
waiting for me to flip them over and catch the crabs that
have been hiding there in peace
as the tide turns over. i ask them,
how do you find peace, is it under
all the rocks, is it in between
the spaces that only
waves know, or in the wrinkles
of barnacle shells or under the
clumps of seaweed,
because i need some.
they just wave their mouth parts sadly
and scuttle over my palm to hide again.
i try to follow, bruising elbows
and arms and legs trying to
scrabble under the beach to find some peace or some-
anything, really. hidden under
the muck and oceanbones i found
a dying asteroid and told it,
i'm looking for peace.
i've been searching and searching and-
searching under pebbles stones
boulders and comets, because i know
that under one such rock must be some sign
of peace. and have you seen it out there, has peace
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More