Docked
on the bush beside me:
butterfly
lowers its wings,
wide,
each one:
black,
an occasional purple
or indigo sheen
there,
then gone.
The midnight velvet:
eternity,
a void so full
to bursting with bliss
it sang itself
into this beauty.
Edges of infinity:
tipped
in banana joy,
Icarus innocence,
lemon crayon love
lined with
eyes, blue:
April sky
to ocean depths,
lily pads
with night vision
peering
into the mystery,
juicing the innocent
with soft buzzes
of knowing.
