Actaeon

Actaeon I am the hunter that you have heard stories of. I glimpsed a poem while she was bathing. Naked, she rose out of the water, From the foam of her own reflection. I saw her. Sight expanded to become sound. Sound expanded to become touch. Touch expanded to become taste. Taste expanded to become smell. I knew her this is a poem. And in this moment, Know that I could not give her to you, How I wanted to kill this sweeter butterfly And display her behind glass. God! We are murderers, aren't we? ~ She felt me watching her, And turned to look at me. "you were a butterfly once," her eyes said. Then, in her anger, She set my own words against me, And they hunted me down. REMEMBER THE COCOON all circled me WHERE snarled YOUR pinned me to the ground WINGS plowed my skin with his claws WERE wrenched flesh away from bone BROKEN howled over my body INTO whimpered HANDS pawed earth over me ~ When I am pinned And wriggling on the wall.....