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.