Sanctuary [Poetry]

xxv

My fingertips felt the softness of a butterfly. It nested at the surface of my skin like someone who's scared to ventures deep. In a perspective unbeknownst to the little beauty, the mere collision so silent like words unsaid tainted my sleeping heart, like a wake up call for the dead. It stung like the needle, but it hurt me not. Needless to say that indeed the fragility of it caught me off guard, thinking the walls of my skin was mightier than any living emotions uncontrollable. I was again tamed.

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2Sept2019