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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Melodrama >> ID #1455902 |   |
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“Monarchs make beautiful corpses,”
she said to me. After all these years spent, I still don't know what she meant... Did she mean that love is a fragile thing, like that of butterfly wings? Was she talking about life and finding peace in one's cocoon? Carefree dances upon wind's currents. Float without regret, float without remorse. My thoughts are in knots... Whatever her meaning, I'm looking differently at spots on my windshield. I've noticed Monarchs do make beautiful corpses...
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