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Endless miasma of butterflies they live in vibrancy- clouds of color frolicking in orgiastic revels; their lives so small and brief: and yet so full of life, vital life. Knowing not one bit of poverty nor labor, neither of flesh nor spirit. Only explosions of mating in ecstasy; and dancing amidst petals of lust for a life of pure pleasure.

I spend my time planting seeds inside my heart, hoping they grow till they break me apart. They are flower seeds delicate as only one can be They breathe my air as I consume, they consume me. They dance among my bones leaving me panting and sweaty I learn to live among the petals a thing that one can have, of, any They sing, chanting and tuneless till they break me apart and I burst forth, fully formed but with a broken heart