Hereafter
—dedicated to S

I woke up like a desert, 
A dry splat nigh the seaboard. 
I set myself ashore
With an ache to wash away. 

But I was febrile and full of void—
Infinitely porous to
The salinity of that which had invaded 
And that which had escaped.

Love, could you not tell?—
I was a butterfly display; 
I was mounted against a driftwood
In my achromatic coat.

And through and through 
The temerity of my soul,
Another butterfly was tied
To make a temporary knot.

Dale Chou
2006-09-17