Madam Butterfly

Madame Butterfly
You took my broken spirit
and my broken heart
beating in staccato notes
falling apart

you took my spirit and let it feel
silent healing
and my heart,
my heart you placed in careful palms
holding it until the rhythm slowed
Fragile
but no longer fragmented

you took the cracks in my character
plastered them with reassuring words
guided the finger onto the next fret
the note gently molded into harmony

my voice was soft
pianissimo
you plucked my chords like a guitar
my wingless form of expression now had the power of flight

you never told me about your heart
but I could hear it
as if your chambers were thrumming with music
with note and song
echoing fortissimo
and it was too beautiful to be kept secret

and then you became a whisper
a whisp of harp
so hard to touch
without cracking
the strings

and you never told me
the title of your song
what gave you the thought to heal others
while your body was not healing itself

you couldn't heal me anymore
but I didn't care
I couldn't tell you how much it hurt
but I knew I could manage
so I threaded I love you at the end of every sentence
a semicolon
a pause
but not an end

The last time you said that you loved me
I finally found purpose as much as one can in somebody else
I never really thought of it
of goodbye
of the final chorus
the finale
time for bows

and I couldn't find the pitch to start writing
my notes were all out of key
finally since you left I can say
you're gone

But that doesn't mean you never knew how to play or write or sing
because who else could have titled the operatic performance
Madame Butterfly
without somebody have given them wings