Bee Butterflies.
we come jaded─
believing butterflies
believing everything
should be worked out
before we get home─
that deleted scenes
would have ruined
the fairy tale.
something about
the way you look
hurt tonight─
gives my heart
an unfamiliar
flutter of bees.
i can pretend they are
always butterflies
if I jade my words
and pretend they
can’t and never sting.
we both hurt.
I apologize and accept
your confusion.
as if there are
multiple choices
besides
leaving or forgiving.
extra guarded,
hyper sensitive,
not to be seen
yelling and screaming
kicking and screaming
instead with our
hearts’ complex
off-patterns of rhythms.
I build a cocoon
to incubate reality
in the grayest space
of the intersection
where our lives
in love meet;
knowing
this world is one colossal hive─
and I’ve found love,
with no place to bee
but here.
Mark Anthony Thomas
Copyright © 2011