Poem by Nikolle Loka

A blue butterfly
A blue butterfly comes
and rests on the eyebrow,
without a key
and without any knocking, opens up
the door of the soul,
and measures your feeling depths
with the pending dawns,
when the night separates from the sun.
And you, the new moon,
with the orbit that comes when
and gets close,
get burned in the invisible
flame of a world that awakens.
Only a little
bit from your breath remained
inside of me
is enough for another world,
without the moon and the old sun.