Rape of the Butterfly

Broken wings, 

once fragile and beautiful, 

now in a heap of bleeding 

colors on the floor, 

legs taken off, 

slowly, 

piece by piece, 

ripping away from 

the main body,

eyes flattened into 

the head, 

closed now, 

patiently waiting, 

grinding the antennae 

between his fingers, 

and plucking them off the head,

smashing them in the ground,

pulling apart the torso, 

and finally the head, 

so that all that remains 

are the broken pieces. 

 

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