amariec_

Butterfly

When I was four

a butterfly landed on my hand while I was 

in a sandbox shaped like a turtle wearing

a black and white polka dotted bathing suit.

 

It just sat there 

like the only thing that mattered 

in this world was a turtle shaped sandbox and my hand.

 

My hand.

The first time you held my hand

I was sweaty and my hand was sweaty

and I kept trying to make that romantic but it was just weird. 

 

That was the only butterfly that ever sat on my hand.

Eventually it left and when you left I felt

lost. 

 

Like I was that butterfly leaving my own hand because the four year old 

was going inside and I had to pick a new home that wasn\'t 

home at all. 

 

I often wonder if that butterfly ever went back to that spot

where it once sat

and if it felt as sad as I do - Did.

Did. 

 

I use past tense because maybe if I say it enough

it will become true. 

 

And then you came back.

To the sandbox, 

to my hand. 

 

And I was still sweaty

and my hand was still sweaty

and it was still weird, but it was home.

 

And suddenly I knew what home was

and it had nothing to do with sandboxes,

or butterflies,

or sweaty hands.