POETRY
Mariposa Arkin Frany
Equally as commonly as they eat nectar, butterflies also feed on rotting fruit, animal dung, urine, and decaying corpses. – National Geographic Magazine
She flutters, sashays into the room sans acquiescence – an omen. What is influence if not to coerce? Adorned with sequins and patterns and velveteen trimmings, her power is of glitter and glamour, her tongue a guillotine unfurled towards her enemies and enemies-to-be. She weaves stories and illusions in hallucinogenic fashion in every beat of her iron wings. She is adored by many, as she was years ago. At the pinnacle of her reign, she buried men in concrete and rock, embellished herself with crystals and charms, sowed fear and death in a garden by a river where asphodel and red spider lilies grow wild and vengeful on the banks. She hovers over the water, marvels at her oeuvre, and leaves a trail of corpses in her wake.
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