Dear You

Dear special you,
This is not yet
a cat. This is
a bird hiding
from cats. It is
a butterfly
masquerading
as bird feathers,
a flock of dead
butterflies whose
still wings have been
repurposed as
art, frozen in
time. It is a
thousand moons and
a thousand suns
performing a
ballet robed in
flower petals.
It is a claw
clinging to a
vine. It is a
curve and the scent
of sage. Love you.