Perhaps a tincture will synchronize
the spilling smithereens choice
spins into her spirit,
an integral tincture laced with chance
to tint her thinking risky.

Softly she prays for answers
held in liquid’s sway.

Dancing against maps
lined along her tongue
she blasts the tip of existence
with butterfly kisses that whisper good-bye.

Brenda Warren 2013


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12 thoughts on “Cocooned

  1. Butterfly kisses promise little but only leave us hoping for better times ahead. The butterfly however has though stages reached perfection and may wonder whether our admiration is enough.


  2. textures, movement, and whispers… great imagery in this poem!! Great perspective… from inside the cocoon… and way to look out ahead at the new year! Splendid piece!!


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