Wait. Stop. Don’t.
Come back.
Your wordsMy poor heart.
My heart
is gone
It has turned into a hundred
butterflies
orange and black
flutter against a pale blue,
they return
be still, my heart.
Come back.
Your wordsMy poor heart.
My heart
is gone
It has turned into a hundred
butterflies
orange and black
flutter against a pale blue,
they return
be still, my heart.