Butterflies
Holding your hand fills a void
yet clashes like oil and water.
I look at your smile like it’s the first one I’ve seen
etched in my mind
Technicolor.
I see you when I close my eyes.
I miss you in my sleep.
One day I will find what you represent.
The butterflies reverse to cocoons
but I find comfort in knowing they will emerge again soon.
Copyright © Sara Ponferrada | Year Posted 2024
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