growing up

of broken glass and fleeting butterflies

Sunday, November 04, 2007tee

almost perfect - shiny, spotless and sparkling. it was that.
playful and bouncy, the pretty butterfly danced around, urging me to touch its wings.

just suddenly, without any prior warning, it just slipped away from my grasp.

and so,
broken glass, it is now that.
evasive, it is now.

maybe out of carelessness, i dropped the glass.
maybe the butterfly just couldn't find a reason to stay.

and i stoop down to pick up the shards of broken glass, wanting it to be whole again.
and i look at the fluttering butterfly, hoping in time it will find its way back to me somehow.

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