A child with arms outstretched, cradling a butterfly worn with torn wings, it can't be real until she's shown it. Can't be good til you've confirmed it. Can't have beauty til you've admired it. It can't, you give it life. Without your breath She lies bereft.
I have to run to you, before I believe that it is true.
A child with a wounded knee, hides the scar until you've seen it, once you've seen it, then she'll ease it. Can't have relief til your belief. Can't look unafraid until she's prayed to you. She needs to limp to you.
I have to reach to you.
She needs you, she does not wish to tease your weary temper, but she finds it hard to always remember that she's shown you it before. A puppy jumping through the door, happily places a cat's treasure of a broken bird upon the kitchen mat, it's beauty trapped within the meowing mind.
I'm purring proudly up at you
Thanks for being so kind to her menagerie, sorry for getting confused by internal imagery. I forget how quite to empathise that, I think I need to change my tack. But, this girl is sometimes trapped in a loop.