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Saige Chandler-Ambrose, ’24
Today I killed a butterfly
I creased & clipped her wings
But I felt nothing watching her convulse in my hands
And I wonder,
Can you kill something you love? Can you become
Something you hate? Something so automatic & vital?
Every waking thought in technicolor, vivid violence
I strung her wings on thread and could never let go
I tied it tight, matrimony to my ring finger
Tied it so tight I hoped I’d turn purple like her
As I’d die from my awe, as I’d choke from my stupor
I’d tear apart the pieces of stained glass on her back
And let them wash over me until she was no more
I’d kill every butterfly I see for this haze
I’d string my fingers all violet-blue
My ends all indigo
For this beautiful metamorphosis.
