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we(who were once you and i)
the tubular thing that is
a butterfly is propped up by
two wings
with its round bright eyes
and its curled banana peel
of a tongue
(each wing alone's just bright
as spit)
but together they push
and pull and lift
the whole thing into the sky
with flicker and row
they strengthen together
that small, pure tubular thing
so much greater
than its bits
we(who were once you and i)
are those crumply
white or orange things
that we know to be stained-glass
though the world
would call them wings
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