Slowly but truly I am brought apart

Dismembered, liquified

Pulled apart to be made new

Metamorphosed, I emerge 

My new wings unroll and expand

Their colors please behold

In the chrysalis of love I have been transformed

Now I can fly

We saw a lot of transformations in the Chrysalis prompt and even a few fireflies making their way into this week’s submissions. Here are the participants. If you are not on the list, please send a message to @just-4-thought

@occhiolistnights

@cruxymox

@paolo-tedeschi

@meno1972

@voicelessinthevoid

@alimaespeaks

@wired-messiah

@bg-grizzo

@cagedstarling

@landonmckay

@neverthelessalive

@honestly-innocent

@hangingoninquietdesparation

@ohsugarhoneyicedtea

@lzlabs

@delreysbrodie

@logorrheic

@feathertostonepoet

@teacup13

@daisiesuptoeleven

@rae-writes

@liam-and-the-inn0v8-r

@strangecolorenthusiast

@inklust

@abstractdevelopment

@greenish-orange

@poetryconstellation

Each week we pick one piece to be entered for a chance to win the prize-of-the-month.The winner-of-the-month will have their work featured here at Poetic Stories for the entire following month! 

moontalk [yes] the kind of talk that leaves the tongue as fast as it bites your neck [not gently]

you tell me you’re not into that [i see] & that you are of the kissing kind [dry] the kind that teases but does not lick & not the one you do not miss [a lie]

but the night does not brush her lips against your oh so soft skin

the night does not brush at all she beats she whips she kills she’s a knife [wetness]

you say you’ve been there before & that you’ve changed [oh pretty moth] you want to show me your research on wildlife behaviour [don’t you know]

it’s too dark for readings [a shame] shall we do something else

we are an hour ahead of the sun [or two]

She could first sip the stars,            After gallantry,            And the other’s back –                      Broken.

And he’d first gorge the grave,            After skin be shed,            Her wings be spread –                      Glistening.

So all serve a purpose,            And all’d earn chrysalis,            The second, to be dead –                      Simple change;

                     And unavoidable event.

Butterflies and caterpillars

Baby dragonflies

Emerging from a chrysalis

And soaring through the skies

Flying high up to the clouds

And leaving far behind

The glowing of emerging love