Cypress Branches Literary Journal - Lamar State College-Orange

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liking. Arrogance seeped from his soul. I recalled him saying, “Come drink the sweet nectar of
Buddleia, such as the hummingbirds do, my lady.” While he whispered this into my ear, I became
entranced with sweet romance. I may just as well have been swooned by Mozart and captured by
Chopin’s composition. Weren’t they of the Romantic Era? Oh, but ne’er did this have anything to do
with real love, now did it? Love? What is love? Had it been so long that I had forgotten? How was I
to know the ulterior motive of this newcomer and predator while fluttering in such a delightful and
fragrant breeze?
I recall the day I sat in the presence of California, who was sipping his mint julep tea. I, Lady
Butterfly, having craved a true love for so long, ignored the scarlet signs of betrayal. Denying all
danger, I placed blame upon the season, believing mid-May’s heat invoked the volatile oils of the lilacs.
Its lovely scent empowered and weakened me. I had forgotten that the Monarch’s methods for
enticement included the fragrance of lilacs. I was oblivious to the sunflower, the pentas, the purple
coneflower, and hint of sage as they worked in conjunction to intoxicate me as well. What a laced
concoction! So, why didn’t mother-nature protect me? Couldn’t she have splashed me with a rain
shower to release me from this spell?
The worst of all things began to happen. I found unfamiliar wing dusts, while snooping about
his home. It left me wondering; how many beautiful butterflies had he lured into his domain? A
seductive voice haunted me in my dreams and left me nauseated. At first, I saw his back, then with
wings wrapped around me. Passionately, he kissed me, but the dream would always end the same. He
would turn around, and it was always someone else. Each dream started the same but ended with
different lady butterflies of various species and origins. Some had luxurious wing spans, others
frolicking short ones; yet all were unlike mine, with subtle and delicate hues. Nevertheless, I was sure
the nectar he had shared with me was just as sweet as my rivals. Eventually it became reality, and I
spotted the beauties in his garden all hours of the season. I began to loath them all, as if it were their
faults. I fantasized myself flying over long enough to pluck one wing of his new possession, teaching
her to swarm around my Californian lover. This would inhibit her from invading my territory!
Courtship in a butterfly’s world can cause such ramifications for a Lady Butterfly, for she’s soon
to become obsolete. It’s no wonder we find ourselves extinct. It is our own foolish heart! Common
Blue, for example, has enough intelligence to seek the dogwood tree and not dilly around with the likes
of California! Thank God for usage of the dogwood in scriptures. Most importantly, God forgives us all
for our shortcomings. Oh, my wayward soul!
My comrades sent me an invitation to attend a ladies’ retreat on the Pacific Island. “It would be
so good for the soul,” my sister pleaded. “Did I not warn you of this poisonous Monarch? Once its prey
becomes sick with his poison…well, it’s wise to avoid his enticing brilliance.” In frustration, she added,
“Oh, please do open your eyes, my beloved sister!” then flew off, wailing.
Alas, her loving efforts sent me back to my library, and I found myself enveloped within the
pages of my favorite books, seeking answers to save myself. I skimmed through King Henry IV by
Shakespeare. My eyes seemed to digitally photograph his words as I searched for clarity. “They love
not poison that do poison need…Nor do I thee” he writes. Did it mean that I should not expect a thank
you for someone else’s dirty work? Oh, and he was a dirty villain indeed! My loved ones were scolding
me for this ludicrous obsession!
Now, have I told you of the Monarch’s special relationship with the milkweed? An addict
yearns for a fix, such as he, and the desire for milkweed! I concluded that somewhere in the larva state,
or disruptive childhood past, perhaps California lived the streets, homeless and starving. Only God
knows why, but in some estranged way he is never satisfied, nor is his belly full, until he digests all of
the milkweed toxins his body can hold. Therefore, he anticipates his next victim of love and claims it
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