melodicinkysin: (but I'm missing the wings.)
He pulled butterflies by their wings
from her back as she grappled
with finding fingerholds
in the trees they shared.
A stumbling buzz--blue winged--
skirted the air between
her rising cries and the undulation
that was his windowpane.
Their toes were curved
into the earth, bark-wedged.
And they rocked, to tipped and--
like the moonscaped tide--
pulled and collided.
He coaxed her voice with his movements,
she was winged by the butterflies
and called his name.

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Melissa

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