If I were a Poem
I’d flutter like a leaf
pretending to be a butterfly.
I’d glisten like lacquered branches
to kindle a dying light.
I’d leave ink-blotted tears on a page
to be later thrown aside.
I’d express my love and devotion
as if it were the sweetest little lie.
Why such ambiguity and tone?
It’s who I’d be, if I were a poem.