There Are Days When My Body Feels Foreign Poem by Mark Heathcote

There are days when my body feels foreign.
Maybe I am pupating into a hawk moth or butterfly.
But don't hold your breath.
Because what I've found
Is that it all settles back down?
Like Lepidoptera dust or falling snow,
And before I know it's just the same me,
The one I've always been known to be.
Ah, that wingless fiend or friend, looking for flight?
Maybe I am pupating into a hawk moth or butterfly tonight.
But for now, the timing must not be right that's all I know...