THE BLACK-TRESSED BUTTERFLY

 

There is but a way I'll ever leave you:

One day the gods will offer me wings,

And I shall take them.

Leaving you will a dear price to pay be,

But then wings...  are wings.

 

You already have them.

Fly up and meet me there,

Let's dance among the eagles,

Hanging from threads of silvermoon,

Hugging each other across sunbeams,

Kissing among the highest stars.

 

There your varicolored wings will glow

Though mine will be dunner,

Set together from the pangs I gathered

Through my already too long a journey.

 

There my multivoiced soul will burst a song,

Though thine will be softer,

Come to me, share with me thy wings,

And I'll become lighter.

Come to me, share with me my soul

And thou shalt be eternal. 

 

Not every love song a sonnet must be.

Butterflies have rhymes in their wings,

Black tresses have rhythm in their waving,

And our metrics will be ours alone,

Puccini will set our love-making to music.

THE MODEL WAS IDENTIFIED AS GENEVIÈVE MORTON.