The Butterfly

I desired a hug,
and to ask,
oh…to ask, 
is not natural 
in my family
of origin. 

The simple
request 
of another.
To hold
the broken 
in me. Exposes
my imperfections. 

To be seen
this way, naked
as new.
Bare
to the bone, 
slits
the walls
of my cocoon. 

Your arms 
encircle
my wings, 
a promise
of unconditional
love. 

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To Talk About Trees

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lonely for no one