A glass box made of presumptions,
Expecting nothing.
Revolutions later
You turned your shining countenance
Toward my world.
Your cratered eyes looked down,
Your blue shadowed light streamed
Into my box.
You saw my ladybug wings
Folded closed around me,
So I wouldn’t shatter.
While I gazed at your face,
Your smile touched my flaming doubt-wings,
Cooling them to clear crystal.
After you wrapped me
In a woolen shawl of blue
You broke the box, and soon part of you
Began to shine in me
And I knew then, dear friend,
That while you were still full moon,
I would learn to fly.