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