with lines by BTS
According to Chaos Theory, you
alone can change my future. Naive
enough to believe this, I press
your lips on the cityscape of mine.
I dream of flight. Isn’t it fascinating,
the way you don’t have to worry
about earthly desires? You are shining
in this pitch-black darkness and the light
caresses me. Like the butterfly effect,
your heartbeat alone can move every
constellation in my eyes. Our fingers
star-crossed, resistant to the violence
of reality. I’m scared of losing you.
I can already sense their desire for
escapism. Will you stay by my side?
Will you promise me not to fly
away? Look at how our romance
is intimately configured. But you
mistake complexity for randomness.
My heart is still shattering on you. Your
wings ready to unfurl. Like a butterfly,
take flight. My wings, fractured. I flap
the ruffles of my slipdress in desperation,
taking me to the outskirts of the city.
Stay, don’t go to those woods. I’m hoping
that this too, is just part of the pattern.
I want to be loved by your fleeting smallness.
According to Chaos Theory, you
alone can change my future. Naive
enough to believe this, I press
your lips on the cityscape of mine.
I dream of flight. Isn’t it fascinating,
the way you don’t have to worry
about earthly desires? You are shining
in this pitch-black darkness and the light
caresses me. Like the butterfly effect,
your heartbeat alone can move every
constellation in my eyes. Our fingers
star-crossed, resistant to the violence
of reality. I’m scared of losing you.
I can already sense their desire for
escapism. Will you stay by my side?
Will you promise me not to fly
away? Look at how our romance
is intimately configured. But you
mistake complexity for randomness.
My heart is still shattering on you. Your
wings ready to unfurl. Like a butterfly,
take flight. My wings, fractured. I flap
the ruffles of my slipdress in desperation,
taking me to the outskirts of the city.
Stay, don’t go to those woods. I’m hoping
that this too, is just part of the pattern.
I want to be loved by your fleeting smallness.
Jessica Kim is a disabled poet. A two-time 2021 Pushcart nominee, her work appears or is forthcoming in Wildness Journal, Diode Poetry Journal, Cosmonauts Avenue, Grain Magazine, Longleaf Review, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, and more. She is the founding editor of The Lumiere Review. Find her at jessicakimwrites.weebly.com and @jessiicable.