Ashley Kim
i peek through my attic window
and the paper town flickers
people are saturated by their movements–
butterflies flap around and follow each figure with love, with intensity
i look up
and across to the tall hospital sourly injected with bodies
wondering how many people died tonight
then hoping it was not painful, but death
is not usually like that, i know, and
it was the city hospital so brutal suffering
is inevitable–
butterflies flutter and falter around the building like moths
slamming their bodies on doors of homes with no intention
of letting them in; left outside to fry themselves with light
inside, i ache for a life
bigger than the
palm of my hand
bigger than the
cherry mint i plop on my tongue
bigger than the
eyelash i blow off the tip of my finger,
then shut my eyes for, while wishing for the heart’s most longing desire–
oh, but, life’s a fragile butterfly, a fragile butterfly,
a butterfly too fragile
to even hold