Llenar el vacío

she thought of a story when she saw the butterfly, which landed on the back of her daughter's hand and launched immediately. immediately she knew she would never write the story, because because, porque, because, all of that. so there was already the beginning and ending, now just to fill the middle.

tiny thing, suburban wing
suffocate, suffocating.
the moth cannot fly
when held, her wings
lost dust, clouds move,
now you will be silent,
now you must be silent.
tiny thing, suburban being
your heart is slowing.
here, eat this dirt.
remember your childhood.
here, slap my face.
remember your rage.
here, suck my swollen mouth.
recall your desire.
here, sleep in the grasses.
reclaim your bones and breath.