black bat

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black bat

and eager eyes i sidelined the dark

before it could be bornagain

these were wings, this was my hand, that was a window,

you were wrong.

there, your beautiful colors beat beat beat

and that was glass, again and again, you allmost,

you mostly died, for a minute.

i rescued you first

with a knife, you would

not be seen with a knife you wouldn't

climb on. although your survival depended

on what i had to offer, you swished and pecked

at the window. the reflection was an illusion, my dear

butterfly, here is my hand.

why the warm hand and not the knife?

why the knowing and not the trapdoor, the flight?

for once, just one simple quick can't-grab-the-camera

moment, i wasn't sure who was who,

hand? darkness? or wings?

7/6/12