We teach little girls to be butterflies
Be strong but be quiet,
be soft, be beautiful
Impeccable,
Finger painted portraits of nothing but butterflies
She is surrounded by the aesthetic images of the perfect life
of everything she can be
everything she needs to be
For Life beyond the cocoon is hapless for a butterfly like you
They will hold scissors to your wings
Filter your nectar
Put you up against bees
Stingers, discomfit you,
make you all the same
Blind to their own mendacious irony
You won’t feel the same
Pressed to feel ignoble,
Not even your brightest colors can make you worthy
For this is a hive and you are a butterfly
Capable of anything and everything of a bee
But never quite enough to feel the same sun upon your face
or the same wind beneath your wings
You can work and you can try
You’ll paint your wings in pinstripes black and yellow
Tape push pins beneath your thorax screaming unabated
“I can fly! Daddy I can fly! Watch me fly just like you!”
But you’ll tire of the black and you’ll tire of the yellow
Retreating to velds all too familiar and damp
You’ll feel at home beneath the omnipresent chill of the morning dew
Mother tugging at coiled antennae
Morning dew dripping from tired eye
She’ll galvanize you to let it fall
Let it fall until you grow blind
Blind to all thoughts of a tantamount tomorrow
For outside of a distant cocoon
Butterflies are sweet
Sweet as the honeycomb upon which they thrive
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Apprentice Editor: Brenna Fischer / Editor: Renée Picard
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