ALINE

Soft, sweet strawberries
cut deeply into the stone wall,
breaking a gap in the cold rock.
It cracks; I quake inside, and it crumbles.
The dust settles, dancing in the sunbeams,
stirred by the wings a butterfly,
and falls to rest upon the rubble
before the kiss has dried upon my lips.

Pretty red fingernails
slash through my heavy bonds
freeing me to fly once more,
the gentlest touch, a gleaming sword.
The chains that held me there so long
fall away like withered grass,
as intangible as broken promises.
I shiver, rising, weightless, fearless, free.

A sparkling green stairway
looks down into the pit I'm in.
It sees me there, and calls
watching as I lift my foot to step.
It holds me, unblinking,
leading me forward, leading me up,
out of the dark, miry clay,
toward another strawberry kiss.