Butterfly

Butterflies on shoulders  
Seizing their spring from the realms of time 
From the heart I asked a passerby  
If he'd let me behold his soul 
Only once 
 
 
A fresh gust of wind 
Is Filling up my lungs with pleasant warmth  
His eyes like glass  
Reflect the yell of yesterday  
Today there’s a void  
 
 
He’s got dirty sneakers, coat too worn-out  
Perhaps dressed in loneliness like that 
 
 
In chase after heart imprinted by time  
Are braids on his cheeks and thus  
There’s no more of us in us