Softly they lie
On the palm of my hand
The wings of a butterfly
Lightly caressing
Colors so rare
Wings delicately fine
Move with a flutter
Now they are mine
There is much in my power
Save or destroy
Clasp them up tightly
Release and enjoy
Control and dominion
Freedom in flight
The choice is mine
To have or to hold
Holding means losing
And having, let go
-Someone Beautiful
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