The day you died,
I plucked your books from the shelf
and stacked them by my bed
to keep you with me a little longer
I ran my hands over the midnight blue
of Lord of the Butterflies,
traced the explosion of transformation
radiating from your chest
The day you died,
I plucked your books from the shelf
and stacked them by my bed
to keep you with me a little longer
I ran my hands over the midnight blue
of Lord of the Butterflies,
traced the explosion of transformation
radiating from your chest