The Memoir Of Ms. Butterfly

I should not let another’s whisper
command the tides within my heart.
Yet one breath—just one—
And I am weightless,
adrift in longing,
forgetting that I am the keeper
of my thoughts, my love.

No more waiting by the window,
No more wishing in the hush of midnight
that he turns, that he sees,
That he aches for me
as I once dreamed him beside me.

He must be worthy—
worthy like I must be.
Yet if I am untended,
If I do not cradle my name in reverence,
How could I ever be worthy of him?

So I begin—
not for him,
not for the fleeting touch of desire,
But for me.
For the mirror that whispers truth,
for the hands that hold my heart steady.
I begin,
and that is enough.

Ms. Butterfly Genesis

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