Despite (everything), there's this butterfly

 Once upon a time I was the one with desire for life in this country 
impulsive, with pink blood in my veins, a refugee,
breaking out of abstract, self-made boxes, or was it a cocoon? 
I simply had to, wings itching with explosive colors ,
and I could (airdry, ground) 

For you the walls are so much higher, but no less the desire 
to finally be yourself and all our dreams exist 
in the circle of our arms on the planet of our hug

But: pandemic, forbidden! and even 'terrorism' 
they strengthen my believe in this butterfly 
so lighthearted, borderless, stubborn.