Yowling during the sleepless night,
She lighted a candlestick.
She was not breathing.
She was screaming,
she was on fire.
She could see it all.
She could hear it all,
the uninterrupted sound of silence.
That sharp tone,
that continuous sharp tone.
That swift hunch.
That vesper mode.
She was aware or fear.
Finally.
Nature manifested it powerfully.
Portentously!
Please touch me once,
said the caterpillar to the wind.
Just once before I die.
Before my skin is buried within the passage of time.
Nature was wise.
Tender.
Violent.
So…
just as she buttered the remaining slice of bread.
A butterfly was about to be craved!