You, my black butterfly,
are death,
may I forever lay in your presence.
You are fear,
Shall I never escape your overwrought hands.
You are confusion,
I may never comprehend the meaning of my life while your breathful wings titillate my neck.
You are darkness,
For only are you painted in the blackness of the night.
You are rebirth,
For you shed all you may have known for the freedom of wings.
You, my black butterfly,
Are dignified,
Alluring,
Miniature,
But most of all, different than all the others.
