I struggled to write something today. Here’s a poem. I hope you like it.

the ocelli

on the satyr butterfly’s

feathered cherub

wings

resemble the eyes

of an Oceanid:

blue. The wedding

is tintinnabulary

in shape: bluebell-

blue

eyes wed

steel gray angel wings.

Butterfly state

of

mind:

connubial

silver rings (where’s

the diamond?)

from the chapel

in decibels

of neon sound

and here comes

the jungle bride

all dressed in

tiger-skin;

dog-headed like Anubis,

she eats tinamou

for breakfast. She

drinks the wine

of the carol of

the

bells.

She is the (Toni) bluest

(Morrison) eye

in the wing

of a butterfly;

flutter, eyes

if they

blink they’ll

miss the wedding.

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