It was interesting the first time,
but now she just wants to banish the butterflies,
mail them away to someone else,
give them pretty feelings to try on.
Anyone can appreciate physical gorgeous in the dressing room
for the first five minutes, anyway. After that, it’s just unfair
to check the mirror & meet the same vision every time.
She turns the lights on & off again
in hopes of seeing something new.
Love, like candles & maybe hurricanes, blows over sometimes.
Girl can try to inhale it, savor the foul aftertaste, call it “smoky”
or a nicer word for “shit,”
but, honey, that’s just honey-
coated secret, hiding the undeniable scent of broken.
Outdated sweetness, wind from a window naturally left open.
Not everything is meant to linger. It doesn’t always have to be
somebody’s fault. Still, Girl wonders,
that doesn’t make it right, does it?
Like the orbit of Mercury, or
the inevitable crescendo of any hot emotion,
sometimes the breaking just happens. Things get old,
it’s natural to want something new. Trouble is,
love asks for a fair trade. Old bones for new wings.
Break the glass, set the mercury free. If she’s crafty enough,
perhaps, Girl can act like it broke on its own.
Today, the glass isn’t thick enough for Girl to feign innocence.
Today, the glass cracks, & the bleeding out begins that way,
like a crash landing: semi-saved by the ocean but ruinous, nonetheless.
Today, the best Girl can do is catch herself drowning,
just before she does something stupid.
Sometimes, the only thing Girl can do is live in the past
& keep living in it. Clasp metal to brace her body against the future,
walk backwards to avoid touching the truth that will eventually step her way.
Until she’s ready to move on, she stays like this.
It is safe to live the same, safe to linger in detritus love.
It is safer to smother the butterflies than to accept them.
Yet, even trapped, even mangled, some things refuse to die.