By: Linda M. Crate

when there’s thunder
there’s lightening
and always a surplus
of rain colder than moon
silver to kiss me with
the stain of his melancholy
or rage; wiping smiles so easily
away as if they were constructed
by paper easily shredded by
hands or time or water,
there’s always been silver dancing
it’s heel against my neck a
moon child can never escape this
feeling slivered within —
you swept away this feeling one
spring day and gave me a sunshine so
divine i thought it could never end;
i should have known it would,
nothing good in my life
seems to last long
always killed cruelly under an unknowing
tide —
a dead butterfly bobbing in the
belly of a bird,
i‘ll break it’s bones scatter it’s
feathers in the skies
breathe mist into the universe it cannot fathom
destroy it before i fall into further entropy
because if your love couldn’t save
me then decimation of
everything might.