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Jun 2017
a sudden burst of skleroza, i.e. a sudden burst of short-lived amnesia, primarily because:

so this night butterfly flies into my room,
the window's open,
    the air is cool,
       i'm sipping my blackbeard (*** & ms. pepsi)
and i've lost my trail of thought...
      i swear i wanted to listen to something...
what was the song?
so once the moth settles down on my wall...
i sneak up to it...
                    bam!
                            the night butterfly is caught...
now, try catching a butterfly with
your hand... almost impossible...
        moths?
                    you can catch them with
your bear hands...
                with a clenched hand, but
acting as a cave, you put your hand against
your ear... that moment where the illusion
of a sea in a sea-shell?
                  it's almost like holding a pigeon
flustered flapping its wings...
          but try catching a butterfly with your
bare hands... impossible...
  try asking a lepidopterists, like *nabokov
...
i guess there's no irony between him
running around with a fish-net on a stick
     and having produced ******...
                           nothing ironic about it...
moths you can catch with your bare hands...
butterflies? no chance in hell...
   why? butterflies are more fragile...
      in comparison?    moths have a meaty
torso, and stronger wings;
    so they're basically body-builders when
comapring them to butterflies...
      and they can withstand the impact your
hand invokes, when catching one...
    plus, i'm not that into allowing a pregnant
moth, secreting its tineola bisselliella into
my bed-sheets... which are cotton:
     moth larvae... the kinder type of maggot;
moths are the nocturnal cousins of butterflies,
but are also somehow related to generic flies?
fascinating...

     oh, the song? enigma's song voyageur?
                    wait... or was it beyond the invisible?
clearly it's not a song that's a floor-filler
      in a night-club...
                         something to listen to, catching
moths, with your bare hands,
            and then releasing them back into the night.
Mateuš Conrad
Written by
Mateuš Conrad  36/M/Essex (England)
(36/M/Essex (England))   
216
   wordvango and betterdays
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