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