Tattered Rag Magazine

March 6, 2012

The Blue Butterfly

Sitting alone in a crowded bar
Their gazes lock from afar.
Not even once,
Had they ever met.
And yet…

Week after week, in the midst of friends
Many bets he would place
On the bountiful, beautiful butterflies
That dared to enter his sacred space.

But she is unlike any other.
Her will brave,
Yet fragile.
Her wings strong,
Yet delicate;
The rare hue of deep,
Crystal blue.
Her aura of suspense surrounds him.

Fluttering suavely,
She draws near.
Her presence deep within him,
For the first time he feels.
On his hand, she gently comes to rest.
And breaths in him a whisper so warm;
So mysterious.

Like a spark in a forest.
Like a love-borne pathogen in the bloodstream.
Like the dewy air after a steady, summer rain.

Intoxicating passion without reason,
Between two sobering souls.
Explicit trust without doubt,
Between a dyad of suspecting skeptics.
Genuine affection without fear,
Between long awaiting wounded hearts.

Both of them running.
Running from themselves;
Their pasts.
Find safety forever in each other,
At last.