Is that butterfly so common
that I can’t remember seeing it
even though I saw it many times?
Its wings are not fancy with no rainbow colors.
They are not rare wings with eccentric shape.
They are not wings with mottled pattern.
They don’t have strong primary colors.
They can’t be distinguished with dull background.
Still, the butterfly flutters its wings in pride.
Why does a fancy butterfly lime me awake
and want to be a flower?
Why do I want to rooted in and locked up in a land,
even though I was flying in the sky in freedom?
The butterfly might be a lonely wild flower
born in deep remote mountain
or it might be a pitiful grass hanging in the cliff.
or it might be a woman waiting for a man in the red street.
Well, it might be a mother with baby on her back,
going over a dark hill.
That is why she is so sexy;
She is so so ordinary.