the door is open
to the garden
with many dying butterflies
a floating silhouette
and sky
she trembles
she remembers death
she cannot die
to end despair
is all she needs
you cannot glance, you cannot frown
a wounded butterfly that stops
onto her gown
can someone help her
crying wolves
are distant
fading into mist
a wounded butterfly that stops
onto her wrist
11th April 2018, Constanta, Romania
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