Papillon

Papillon

Lamp-lit,
singly, on your narrow bed; you alighted,
came to rest on my outstretched fingertip,

with a damp, affirmative whisper
that the script did not permit; a sculpture
of air and low light, a sparkler in an infant's mitt,

a sixfold kiss, balanced on my hand. Riffing like Diz
I carved a shape, drawing you in space,
through space: you crumpled your masterpiece of a face,

fluttered your wings, and wept.