the dragonfly.
My wings are
crushed velvet
that could not be destroyed.
A powerful flight
that you could not stay.
I went
where I wanted.
So,
you put me in a jar.
You think I forget?
Seeing myself dusty
and airless,
resting among the clutter
on your work table.
You could look,
but no one
could touch.
I remember.
The beautiful colors
slowly drained
away
the life steeped out like a used teabag.
My eyes
became
glazed-over and useless.
But I am the dragonfly.
My soul flew out.
My shell
left behind
in that
decrepit jar
to wither,
to remain,
your empty muse.
And my heart,
my heart is now free.
