Butterflies are free

by libby   Jan 20, 2006


I was flipping through channels
on the television today, flipping through
HBO, looking for a
movie to watch.

My eye was caught by the type of movie
that I definitely was not
expecting. Encore-Love is not normally
my station of choice.

It was about a half hour
into the film when I
tuned in. It was made in
nineteen seventy two. That part
was obvious.

The male lead looked exactly
like someone I know. The actor even
had the same first name.

The girl looked like a
blonde and white Nicole Richie. From what I understand,
she was a big-time actress
back in the day.

He was blind.
He was twenty years old.
He had just moved in
to his first apartment, all on his own.

She was pretty.
She was nineteen.
She had once been married for six days.
She lived next door.

He touched her face
because he couldn't see her.
He smelled her hair
because he couldn't see her.
He breathed her in
because he couldn't see her.
He knew she was beautiful
because he couldn't see her.

I wanted them to
fall in love
so so badly. Since he looked
like the one I know,
maybe I could be that one's
skinny blonde with
tiny boobs, prancing around the
apartment in white seventies
underwear.

Maybe he would touch my face,
smell my hair,
breathe me in,
and just know that I'm beautiful.

But I got what I wanted...
she turned out to be me. He called her
"emotionally retarded"
but he was really speaking
to me. She cried
my tears, but I didn't get
her happy ending.

If he was blind
I'd be beautiful.

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Latest Comments

  • 18 years ago

    by Martyna

    You seem to end your poems so well. I really like the ending to this one. Once again, amazing write.