for a healing
we gathered
small things
you'd gotten the idea
to bring a paper mâché butterfly
once it was dry-
holding it above your head
as if the butterfly mantra wasn't
at the lip of some rogue amaranth-
you opened your mouth
but nothing
sound
happened
a halo mocking
the bitterfly saint
droop-wings of
soda pop bottle shards
plastic coated
paper clips jabbed
in for antennas
later we released
a pinprick pine spark
toward an indifferent moon