Tuesday, January 24, 2006

The Butterfly Collector

these are things I’m not allowed to say
like when I first saw you
I wanted you
and if I had the strength
I would have taken you
pushed you up against the wall
and pinned you
like a young butterfly
not to keep you under glass
but to let you colour the air
above my bed
just one flutter of your black lashes
against my skin
and I will let you
go