The Brute and The Butterfly by Ian Bailey
- Eidolon Magazine
- Mar 4
- 1 min read
Caress, the folding arms
Like little wings
Unconscious, in your lap
Love the body
Trace the peaks with your brutish fingers
In solidarity, you relax
For it’s life who’s undone me
Not you the brute, ’tis not you!
You have not clipped my wings
Don't fret
It was life’s fickle hand
That struck me down with such intent
So feel free
To caress my broken jaw
And embrace me, in your brutish arms
And run your hands
Down unkempt lawns, oh feel free
To love me with your left hand
And love yourself with the right
I fly as life allows
As I flew into your net tonight