Butterflies perched on my puckered lips, Jugni
mistaking it for a ruddy rose bud.
They flowered, as he kissed his words into my mouth,
their sugar talk coating the grief inside my cheek,
melting into sweet comfort, even as destiny blew cold waves at my silhouette.
Transparent as glass I was, Jugni
malleable and molten, under his gaze.
My fragility evident for him to see,
my vulnerability visible for him to touch,
my susceptibility yielding to his clutch.
Every mask fell away, layer by layer
and within my tremulousness, he heard the torment of my soul.
I lay welded to him, Jugni,
with the depths of my pain merging with the heights of my pleasure,
my breath sold to ecstasy.
But memories shot out of the abysses and sliced me in two.
I stitched myself back slowly, before the ascent of the coral sun.
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