Butterflies
They flutter and hover
And float on the breeze.
They shiver and shimmer
And weaken the knees.
Fickle and fragile,
They tickle and tease.
Fleeting and flimsy,
Deceptively free.
These frivolous creatures,
These knots of desire.
Once spindles of yearning,
Now spools of barbed wire.
Once pulling like petals,
Now pricking like briar.
Once soothing like honey,
Now burning like fire.
Violently thrashing,
It struggles to rise.
The truth comes up gasping
From whirlpools of lies.
Shed this charade
And discard your disguise.
I know you enjoy
Drowning blind butterflies.
Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2012
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