Shaft & Butterfly
The shaft. hollow. gelatinous. Salty, but sweet.
a protruding bite
yet all the while a state of purity so relaxed
presumes like a
butterfly carried by the presumptuous wind…
The boundaries dismissed by a compelling
drive to fall into the
shaft, forward and profitable.
covered again until the wind arrives with only
nectar on the
belly of a bee to yet another place, the window,
the eye of
expectation. A gaze.
For people, places and things devour the pure
release of
expression for the butterfly to dance yet again
with the
reach…The shaft. Hollow. gelatinous. Salty, but
ah! So sweet.