I swallowed a stone
shaped like your name
which turned a knob at
the tip of my chest.
I gulped the knob a
quarter turn and
I opened my heart
to free the butterflies
I'd been caging there.
I expected them to erupt
like a clutter of color into the air.
I hoped to watch as clouds
of vibrant bandits swarmed home
to you across a controversial border.
I took their battering ram wings as
a sign that they still wanted you.
Yet, as the little knob turned and
my swollen heart beat,
not a single wing twitched
in the captive fleet.
There were only broken wings left
to falter in a salty breeze.
Spiritless petals fell single
file from the deepest chambers
of my pock-marked heart.
No longer butterflies.
No longer yours
or mine.
Just warriors
too fatigued to
wage our wars.
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