Butterflies

In a fragile vase

In your chamber are

Preserved butterflies

That when touched by

A brilliant sun ray

Turn to mother-of-pearl,

Pieces of iridescent

Evening sky

Or opaline glimmer

Of velvety wings;

There the azure

Daughters of the air,

Mercurial wings

Now fixed forever,

Wings that traversed

Unexplored valleys

That like the desires

Of your enamored soul

Seem, at dawn,

To be revived

When you unlatch

Your windows and sun

Explodes in your eyes

And in crystalline panes.