you used to fold butterflies out of paperdolls. you seemed to be able to create something beautiful out of something ugly, and yet there are no words to describe that, i still don't understand how you used that magic. right now i am without you and choking on desertsand at the end of the shoreline. i am staring at the one-winged butterflies flying oh so free through the clouded sky, paper dolls are walking along the water, moving aside everytime the oceans tends to swallow them. i can't decide whether i walk a straight line or make my footsteps go zig-zag through the sand.
the crumpled shades of the clouds seem to be weeping, up there in the sky. their tears are falling down upon me, they are creating ripples in the once so calm water of the ocean. the wind is ripping of the wings of the butterflies until they all have fallen down on the shore, doomed to drown in the now restless water of the sea. their eyes staring at me helplessly, hopelessly, waiting for me to save them but i cannot