Metamorphosis of a Female Butterfly

Unfolded gentle leaves to hide

Developed lovely bruiséd flesh

You will not feel unmolted, eyed

While forming skin is trying to mesh

They all  assumed the “obvious”

Formed MYSELF away from light

Always keep the truth  acinus,

My real self formed solid, but blight

My paper shell, it fit so well

I can’t stay here, I’ll suffer pain

Find my new body without shell

A new person’s all I gain

Standing still, uncurling wing

A beautiful lek, mariposas sing