Butterflies

Liora Mondlak

Foraminifera. Forams, for short. The Hole Bearers.
In the Kingdom of Protozoa they lived
beneath the sediment. In the dainty sulphur
the one-eyed sphinx ate the violet
heart of an artichoke.

Saints were often called upon to prevent
disasters. In our Spanish room there was
powdered glass of different colors. A single
bucket of water to extinguish the flames
of our burning city.

I called you little glassywing.
You gave me Our Lady’s
thistle and a bottle of
Pinot Noir. The white
label said IRONY.

It’s a finicky wine, even when the wine
maker does everything right. For weeks
I thought you were born
insane until I realized you were born
in Spain. You said, poor Constance.

The doctor called them
floaters. At first they appeared
in the dark like artillery fire. The lamp of
our memory was touched with ivy. If only
around the edges.