You came to sit on my lap,
not asking permission,
and forgetting the rest of my vocabulary
like denied, not home, have a headache
or my period (a different one, don't smirk).
The butterflies insisted on joining,
you not me
nestling in your hair, on your shoulders,
upon your innocently (ha) batting eyelids,
crawling their way inside your bosom
(bastard scrawny bugs,
would have wrung their little necks
but there were so many of them),
doubling the weight on my knees
and all this fluttering did not add any lift
to the composite weight of insect
and flesh... oh, flesh... oh, flesh...
(no, not stuttering,
trying to get rid of that big butterfly hovering between our mouths).
I love you, you said, or I think you did
(too much buzzing around)
pulling the hem of the dress to the mid of your thigh
and the hem of the hand to the nape of my neck
and whooshing that damn big butterfly out of way
as lips collided
and teeth crunched
and fingers sank beyond muscles seeking for bone
(and the butterfly tried to crawl into my ear,
hey, a jealous butterfly?...).
I revised my vision of the world
as a rustling sound suddenly conquered my hearing
and millions of tiny claws sank into cloth, skin, hair
pulling us up (with the chair underneath me)
and carrying us like a miraculous carpet
past doors, floors, rooms
and dropping us softly on the bed
(they dropped the chair along the way somewhere,
oh, yes, they also pulled the bed covers away,
told you - miraculous).
I love you, I dared say
looking around in fright for that bullying butterfly...
but it was gone...
they were all gone,
we were alone.
What happened? I asked
sad and happy and... something else.
It did not yet, it will soon, you smiled knowingly
opening your arms and floating to the ceiling (huh?...)
your clothing suddenly dissolving into billions of moths
and as the swarm disappeared through the door
you floated softly towards that frantic figure (mine)
trying to dissolve its clothes as well before...
you landed, oh, so softly,
we embraced, oh, so softly,
we merged... you know... merged, oh, so softly.
In that last moment of sanity
before vision blurred and heartbeat crumbled and breath choked
I saw that big (big? more like giant) butterfly
letting go of you, winking (butterfly winking?)
smiling (butterfly smiling?)
and rushing out of the door
following the moths to some statistically probable candle.
Good luck my friend,
I wish you not to find that candle, I thought,
before the final blur and crumble and choke.
Sorry, my love, I have a small confession to make,
when we were making love I was not fully here, with you,
part of me was there, elsewhere,
promising the god of butterflies
that I will follow high studies
(starting next Monday)
focusing on invertebrata
sub section arthropoda
sub sub section entomologia (hehe, poet or not poet)
sub sub sub section lepidoptera.
You didn't mind
if to judge from the following session(s)
of blur and crumble and choke.