Near us, butterflies so firmly
mated they fly together,
a single sulphur body.
A spring azure butterfly lifts
from the graveyard, then
drops beside you, blue scrap
of paper by your bare feet.
Through you the world came
into my body, spilled
sugar, a gleaming bridge.
Before I loved you, I was
blinded. Time kicks cells apart,
snuffs out stars. Yet I see
flaring, a rush of bright air.
