The Memoir Of Ms. Butterfly

I’m not gonna hold you today.

Not in thought, wish, or the soft ache of maybe.

I folded that longing into yesterday’s sky

and let it drift—

not as a prayer,

But as a release.

I’m okay.

I say it like a mantra,

like a rhythm, I’ve learned to dance to

even when the music changes.

Even when the silence asks questions

I have no right to answer.

But in the back of my mind,

There’s a flicker—

not a flame,

Just the echo of a match I never struck.

A wonder I didn’t invite,

But didn’t lock out either.

I know I have no right to wonder.

There is no claim to the what-ifs or permission to trace your name

In the margins of my healing.

But desire doesn’t ask for permission.

It just shows up—

unannounced,

unapologetic,

and sometimes,

unwanted.

So I won’t hold you today.

Not in memory,

not in metaphor.

But if you feel a breeze

that carries my name,

know it wasn’t a call—

just letting go

that still knows how to whisper.

By: Ms. Butterfly Genesis