Black Butterfly Wings Poem by Daniel Ionita

Slow afternoon with curtains drawn tight,
soft silky pillows, softer velvet slides,
low, lower still, then up again, so light...
A dream-like pose, yet far from sleeping tides.

Your eyes, so deep, are sparkling in a trance,
and lava, lapping my volcano lip,
invites those ruby-twins to fiery dance,
your violin now firmly in my grip.

Under the spell of this conjuring hour,
some dreams are dreamed too far, no turning back...
From dainty rosebud to resplendent flower
butterfly wings now open, deep and black.