Butterfly
Ever changing butterfly
Your wings sparkle colors
of mystic-magenta
petrified-purple
and rancid-red.
The spring brings cedar
a delightful itch
The nose brings bleeding
a tasteful spit.
Black fragments tucked beneath
flaps of skin
Hidden between hairs
and follicles
and skin.
I'm babbling now
None of this makes any sense
But to me
it's everything.
Don't try to collect my thoughts
You will fail miserably!
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Thinking inside the box, because it's never really outside until it is manifested.
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