When I was a child I caught a butterfly.
I pulled her from a perfect blue sky using a cheap net on a cane pole.
She enchanted me. Such delicately veined loveliness. Such gorgeous, vibrant, wonderful, hand-painted colours. Such a soft fluttering of perfect wings. Such exotic, wild, pure beauty.
Somehow she became entangled. Her struggle became urgent and desperate.
With untrained fingers I attempted rescue.
She disintegrated into sad, powdery fragments. Like ash.
It broke my heart.
All these years later.
You are beautiful. Exquisite. Sensitive. A rare creature. Bending to my will.
Yet no matter how hard I try.
No matter how gentle I am. How kind. How patient,. How generous. How understanding.
No matter how much, with every fibre of my being, I strive to avoid it.
I will break you
Upon my wheel.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Photo stolen from Junest