The Mating of Butterflies

Beautiful and fragile,

Butterfly pairs 

Spin around 

One another

They flutter and fly

Ever close, 

Ever high.

Eager to touch

Themselves, and the stars.

Heavenly bodies

To live on.

They dance and dance

In unison,

Wings flittering

Like pages,

We try to read

Without ripping them.

Climbing the sky 

Higher

And higher

Air growing thinner 

And thinner

And cold.

They cannot help but hope

To cling to each other

For warmth,

But with each embrace 

Their winged 

Dance fades,

Miles of air 

Cascade above them,

Falling 

Without falling

So, 

They separate. 

And beating wings

Resume their pace.

At least, 

Till they grow weary.

Plummeting 

And plummeting,

Sinking into the earth

With wings intertwined

Tying knots you hope 

May weaken gravity,

Before realizing mass

Is what makes you fall.

How will they 

Die happy,

If falling is everything,

But their wings 

Are made to fly…

Perhaps, 

Learning to fall correctly.