I knew you.
The Mayfall of Summer, the resilient periwinkles and your round doe-eyes.
They aligned perfectly; the sky's warm palette, the bits of white stars peeking from behind the clouds and your sweet ticklish laugh.
Oh dear, you made me feel like I had won.
The loo of awakening spring wrapped around us and mischievously blew on you, I couldn't help but look at you and only you for eternity.
You made me feel like I had all the time in the world to spend with you, never gone and never lost.
Wherever I looked, I saw you. Engraved on the wooden bark, imprinted on the pavement and painted on the familiar face of the moon...I wish I could've torn open my heart to find you there as well.
I knew you, and I loved you.
And I dare question, where did you disappear on one fine day?
It would've been the usual if it weren't for you to just fly away like the sparkle of fireflies we contained in that glass jar, every summer night?
Or maybe the flock of orange-bellied starlings that we watched from your marble-floored balcony?
You couldn't have just perished like the melting snow of early January, right?
Oh dear, you make me so hopeless.
I have lost you, my hiraeth.
YOU ARE READING
Butterfly || Ful
General Fiction'Butterfly', by Ful, is a short-novel depicting a person's eternal inability to move on from the death of a loved one and capturing the most painful moments in the aftermath of a tragedy.
