A Wingless Butterfly

My mother, 

a true Caco women,

a wingless butterfly

who flew to New York without her skin.

She who once stood under a flaming red tree

stepped back and let go of me.

She lost her father,

her virginity,

and me.

Eventually even the rainbows disappeared.

She came back to find me,

but I wasn't lost.

I came back myself

because she was my long-lost mother

who once spoke in silent voices,

but screamed at night.

I saved her every night

during her fight to take flight.

She no longer wanted to be a wingless butterfly

and neither did I.

It is the vivid eyes of one's memory

that gives them breath

to breathe freedom

and be the Queen of thier Kingdom.