She dies stepped on the stairs
For her flawless camouflage
I am the crushed moth
Wet by the pool.
I cage a dark desperate butterfly with my hands
Open the scary glass window for her
She escapes and insists on trying to fly-cross
The invisible barrier, thicker than her
I am the blue sides hidden on her closed wings
I am her despair
She flies away.
I am the tree frog that hides among the rock
And lives in solitude to keep umid and warm
He runs from me, after playing dead
I would too
If I only could.
