Sally swallowed the sky when
she wailed facing heaven.
An empty expanse watches me
from so high above, and I watch it.
Everywhere I go the trees have nosebleeds
and the squirrels are vibrating precariously.
The world is on edge, and at any second
I could find myself deep into the cosmos.
What ground I stand upon seems not
to move any longer, and the stills have taken
residence in every form of matter.
I can hear explosions and see static and everything is in a rushing spinning anxiety.
I am looking to hide in a place
where I can survive the tumult.
Doubt of my existence is pressing
upon my fluttering mind.
Slowly any hand reaches out and grasps the butterfly. The butterfly bats its wings and wriggles its body. Before any sort of victory can be had the world has caught on fire, and in these passions the hand and the butterfly are engulfed.
Tuck me into the roots of the trees.
I am afraid of everything else.
I need silence to engulf me.
I need to be far away from the empty heavens.
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