Next door I could hear the old man’s soul flap its heavy vermillion butterfly wings as the hustler shot a load down his throat.

I could hear an old man in the stall next to ours sucking a hustler’s cock; I thought of animals gathering at a salt lick during the night near a cave: carnivore rubbing shoulders with deer.

...a butterfly is like the soul of a person, it dries out in captivity.

Be calm. Keep reading.

I see it like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. It'll take a while, but it'll spread its wings.

"Soul Mates is an angel without wings, who helps bring out the best in you." ~ Tom Baker