Long forgotten
Blackened butterflies
Rotten on emptied spaces
Flies like smell
Never dying
Always living
Acquatined butterflies
Friendly flies
Both remaining
Remembering them
Visiting them
Saluting them
Meeting flies
Biting flies
Eating flies
Is it that they meet us?
Is it that they bite us?
Is it that they eat us?
He's that fly inside my heart.

