• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 04
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The Soul Flies

the soul leaving through my mouth
is a kaleidoscope of butterfly
fully developed, wings now dry
fluttering off high into the blue
en route to freedom, to Shangri-la

after a week passed Thursday
lunch rather than brunch
at a gastro bistro, deep inside the mall
of caterpillar risotto (larve sui carnaroli)
augmented by veg, al dente and spiced

lead to excruciating stomach cramps
from precipitous pupal growth
as a metamorphosis deep in my gut
with maturing masses, the chrysalis
en pursuit of an exeat: my oesophagus

as Comma
Brimstone
Speckled Woods
Holly Blue
Peacock
Red Admiral
Tortoiseshell
Painted Lady too

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The Soul Flies

escape en bloc from my bloated gut
via my raw throat and open mouth
en route to freedom, to Shangri-la
fluttering off high into the blue
fully developed, my soul has flown

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