Butterfly Pea
The girl of glass,
Stands solemn in the garden
To her chest her hands grasp,
A heart now hardened
What is that,
Far off in the clear?
It’s wings thin and soft
Doth shed a crystal tear
Come, silken flier
Moth of utter beauty
Into my garden of fire
Garden of immunity
The glass doll gazes
Into your pearlescent eyes
And with a small smile
Her heart lets out a cry
Might it be sorrow
Or might it be neglect
Sickness of love
That begins to collect
No, but peace
That fills her tattered soul
Fills the broken spaces
Makes her feel whole
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