butterfly

one finger you raised -
or at least I stopped counting after that one.
you pointed at the center
of my crawling hollowness
and said 'let there be a prism'.
and suddenly your light reflected itself
angling and curving
and snaking into my farthest corners,
blinding me.

once blinded, you tied my wrists
with a shred from my breath
and while letting my toes
feel the edge of myself
you said 'let there be sight'.
and suddenly I grew new eyes,
and was able to inhale the
vastness of the yet untouched
through the chrysalid wall.

you asked if I wasn't tired
of my cocoon warming me up,
but before I was able to sound my fears
you mercilessly tore it apart,
rejoicing at the scent of my shivers
anigh sunrise.

one finger you raised -
and after picking my first kiss on its tip,
you taught me my own definition,
pushing me out of myself
and saying 'let there be flight'.




Poetry by Lilly Negoi
Read 634 times
Written on 2012-12-06 at 11:20

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


sabereh lotfian
Welcome back Liliana! We've been so waiting for you... :)

~Sabereh x
2012-12-07


M Heathcote
It felt like a brutal but beautiful exploration of oneself... Loved it good read :)
2012-12-07


countryfog
Many writers can beautifully describe the surface of things, you have a gift, a sensibility, that sees inside them, revealing the hidden beauty. We can learn and improve our craft, but I think your gift is something one is born with.
2012-12-06