Pressing Butterflies

Pressing Butterflies

She placed an iris on the piano
Upon the keys he loved to play
She was gone before the sun filtered through his eyes

Sweet Mother Mary
Thank you for these
--butterfly wings
And the ability to fly

He still whispered her name
Until the last syllable caught in his throat
Threatening to crack his throat and let his voice escape
Can hear the cat tails whistle her disappearance outside his window

Sweet Mother Mary
Can you please tell me?
Why some girls
Choose to be cocooned

She called him, and he was captivated by her voice
He could see her rose tattoo when closed eyes each night
Spiral, crawling around her ankle, lingering
Upon her soft skin
He could still tasted her on his mouth

Sweet Mother Mary
Why are the little boys different?
They have no wings
Do they not wish to fly or did they just forget?

He spent days walking in circles
The rainy days reminded him of her smell
The sunny days reminded him of her smile
Pictures of her plastered across the refrigerator
She held lilies like a queen
These days he heard she was sailing the world

Sweet Mother Mary
The little boys are chasing with very large nets
Forcing me into dark corners
They seem to think I am for sale

Bottles lined his eyes, cigarettes collect at his mouth
He broke all her mementos, and shredded her photographs
She was getting married
Tulip fields and layers of velvet
Her name still lingered on his mouth
Dust began collecting on his piano, on him, on his eyes
He could only see the darkness

Sweet Mother Mary
They have pressed me down
Pinned me to a black velvet matting
They tell me I should be grateful for their admiration

Dried up husks of moths filled his hands
He burned them one by one
Only has a bitter after taste these days
Gave up on the cigarettes, and dried up days ago
His friends say he is grayer
He smiles and watches the butterflies dance across the daffodils
Moving across town, selling the piano
He called her, agreeing they both needed to fly

Sweet Mother Mary
I have pulled myself free
I am leaving him
Placed an iris upon the piano and walked out.

Sweet Mother Mary
I want to thank you
For these butterfly wings
And the ability to fly

Red Light Wife

Red Light Wife


The light flashed her husband’s seventh message
Her voice clouded with bourbon
Movements entangled in the smoke from her cigarettes
Dangling ever so closely to the edge
Discarded dollar bills curled up and mourning her attention
She can only look outside
Mesmerized moth in the flickering light of the outside neons
Open branded upon chest, legs ajar
Showcasing strewn sheets and misplaced intentions
Husband’s shadow lingers in the streaks of mascara
Slowly running
Running
Running
In fine line dictating the division of her heart
Forgotten in his business plan, lingering at the door with suitcased
Dreams ideal and their wedding photograph
She prepares to leave, but stumbles upon welcome mat
Embroidered on her back and thighs
His smile startles her and she remembers being young
So young
So very young

A little girl in the corner of her room
Scissors clipping construction paper creating a bright red heart
Pinned to her shirt, dancing along the living room
Soaring, constructing a hat a mask a cape
She held onto her dreams
Captured in a smile of her father

Fading is her smile
Wrinkles caving into her face, framed in smeared lipstick
Broken eyeliner cradled and branded her skin
Lover sleeping in bed with arm lingering out of the sheets
Twitching and snoring, his sweat lingered on her skin
She replays her husband’s voice over and over in the machine
Until the blinking light burned into eyes
Bourbon is never-ending waterfall
To routine coated in ashes and she put out her seventh cigarette
For the night
Night
Night
Descends upon her skin in crescent shaped scars and handprint bruises
He was always so far away
Road trips, maps and one way exits tattooed on her lips
She almost would leave until he would come back
Collecting her up and promising her that happy ending

A young lady left on the bleachers
Nervously fingering her dress, rubbing feet
To rhythm of music and light collect in her hair
He stumbled over the second step and into her lap
Blushing giggling with red heart pinned to her chest
Dancing around around the floor

She sways to the creaking of the bed as her lover rolls over
Neons tracing guilty accusations
Red dress pooling at her waist, stockings ran and didn’t make it far
Until the tears joined in this race for her heart
Small red paper tattered
Tattered
Tattered
Held up with a broken magnet, locked in a single band of gold
Engagement party planned on the answering machine
She sits, midnight, alone
Lover fast asleep and bourbon almost gone
Neons blinking dancing on her skin
Arrangements made, appointments broken, promises forgotten
She really needed to leave, but is stopped, bound
With every beat of her breaking heart when she sees his longing look

Blushing bride, shaking and swaying
His smile collected her up and neatly tied up
In vows, cake and all the dreams
Encased in the red paper hearts dangling from ceiling

She straightened her clothes, smoothing back her wet hair
Leaning over the answering machine, deleting his voice
Eyeing her lover snoring, she wrote her goodbyes
Upon a tattered red heart and left it lying at the door