the chrysalis

she pressed her heart
against his body,
in search of a pattern
and came away, silent.

his arrival was a melody
that she could not hear -
her feet stood still
against the bursting movement
of butterflies,
the fluttering of wings.

one day she will bloom
out of her cocoon,
bright as a golden summer morning,
yellow as a sunflower.

one day, her wings
will float along to a different song
in her metamorphosis from stillness.

he pressed his heart
against her body
and spun dreams made of silk
that were woven into his skin,
forever.