Butterfly

Did you chew,
then swallow it,
I wonder--that missing photo
of me in my thirties,
just out of the shower,
towel tossed to the floor
for that other love
to snap me.

You were already dying
in the emergency room,
one hand in the hand
of an angel. The other
must have torn open 
that secret place 
in your wallet to touch me,
protect me, once more 
before letting go to become
every yellow butterfly
I've seen since that day.

Pris Campbell
©2013

In MiPOEsias Bubble Bath Issue Feb, 2013

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