Fly Butterfly

At the birth of fall
summer birds
dot the spread wings
of our shared pavilion,
our paradise of whispers,
where every quieted
prayer eludes Atlas' grip.
Enduring muscles
of the god-colossus
shaken by winged thoughts
settling on his titanic
psyche like butterflies
on moss covered rocks.
Regal capes
decorated to mock
their predators fly
in the wind despite
every earthquake its echoed
beating causes across
this wretched world.
A gasp, a grip, flirtatious
mindful breaths of summer
causing the world to slip
on a man's back.
A butterfly doesn't care
for earthbound worries,
it flies to heaven on
a violins last note.
Let her drop, my lover
is the wind and in her
arms I am an angel.