‘Black Butterfly Flow’
Black Butterfly born of an Egyptian womb. A relic of my imagination, she’ll transform into it soon. Her wings are the chariots where the muses confess. She flies by sound. I’ll try and calm her down in two hundred or less.
Black Butterfly, you don’t seem to be flying straight. I know curves are apart of your nature but I’m going to need you to concentrate. Your House is the secret House of The Sea. I’ll cater to your pillars if need be.
Black Butterfly, Do you fly because the wind has blown you away? Have you transformed into a quiet phenom, because of what the world might say? Stay Put! The world wants a glimpse of your face. Faced with first impressions, Don’t let your impressions be wasted.
Black Butterfly, the clock is counting my words. I’m in a place where Radio City and New Year’s Eve converge. If you would just come along. Caterpillars could crawl into their own songs.
Black Butterfly, there’s a significant reason for your drawing. The oil of the Fabric. The of the sewing. You can sew. Cultivate your verses and let your Black Butterfly Flow.