As they lie down to flap and flap
Face to face, white and black
Their light dims and shines
White will fly through the green
Not knowing what more to settle on
Saturated by their pleasant sight
Of their petals
Dazed by a gentle irresistible suck of their sap
Flapping in the air they will flap
Not waving, else their heart will break
Soon to see other butterflies
Landing on what has been restored
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