I seem to be a cosmic, golden butterfly. Cool!
I am flying through layers of different times and places. They are like a breeze. They carry me.
The Star warms me. The light mist is water, sustenance.
I am so—Free.
I can't remember what it was. But I miss it. What was I? I can't remember! What should I do?!
I know. I should—fly.
Written Content G.A.M cc
Golden Butterfly Patricia Fatta
Shot Clean Through Kimkang