30:30 2014, Day 27

Mothra as Chrysalis

A song will call me inside

this lucid dream of safety

and I will come. In a contrail

of violent confetti, wings

an acre field of Million-Bells,

I will come to be their wind.

The people have forgotten

kindness, their spirit falls to ruin.

A god is larger than the fears

of her ladies-in-waiting. I will

answer the twinned voice, find

the beast I bound once. I choose

this nearing birth into the tiny world

of my beloved. I leave behind

the monstrous husk of my home.