I was mid-sentence
of a hazy-crazy
argument with her;
spittle sprayed with
unguarded gesticulations
when a butterfly landed
on my finger that was
slashing toward her.
First, I seethed.
Then, froze and
stopped breathing as
I watched gentle flickering
of her beautiful wings.
Delicate things
What was I splaying?
I didn’t matter anymore.
Just stuff to sort later.