page 58

you have woken up today.
congratulations!

out your window,
you see a picturesque day;

blue sky. birdsong. soft breeze. sunshine.

you think, "oh, what a beautiful day to be alive!"
but you are a part of the day;

a blue shade. a calmness.
a ray of light. a note in a melody.

if you were not here...

if you were a page not colored
in The Coloring Book...

if your existence
were absent from Infinity,

the Ensemble would not be the same;

one less ripple
 expanding in the water;

one less concentric ring
stretching through humanity


:::


though her body is pinned
with outward facing tacks,

she wears a lavender head;
she met the guillotine

because what a rose knows
it cannot bear reveal;

     just as the blade descended
     through her redness,

     she shouted "Lavera! Lavera! Lavera!"

     not long after she grew,
     atop her, a light purple hue.


:::


morphed into a butterfly.
two weeks to live have i.

flower nectar and sun in sky,
two sources to keep alive.

mirrored wing to a human eye.
two weeks to live have i.

an emergency to mate or die,
temporal living is a lie;


catepiller,     
crysalis,      
a beautiful purified bliss,       
live i,        
  live i,       

i d---

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the woman said to the pairs of eyes standing around her, I am quite excited for this travel. My clothes are new, my satchel is full, and my shoes are taut and unweathered. can't we accompany you? asked one of the eyes. I am afraid you cannot. You are all nomads. I, however, am an explorer. There is a difference, and I cannot say how one becomes an explorer. whilst the eyes looked around dejected and angry, a young pair of eyes without shoes, hung filthy clothes, and a deprived stomach, moved her hand quietly over her heart. seeing this action, the explorer smiled at the young eyes from the corner of her mouth, sat up, and turned to a new direction to travel. she announced confidently, Do not worry! Some of you will...and have realized... how to truly explore. ::: after magnifying the wings of a butterfly one day, a biochemist nearly lost her head at what she saw; the pigments were segmented into parts. not like feathers, not like
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page 69

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