Somewhere over the South Bronx

by Sally De Jesus

I make butterflies
with volunteers
here in my home
here in my homeless shelter.
Later I will hurt
later I will hit
here in my safe haven.
I get a warm plastic tray lunch with a peel-off top
and eat everything that’s not green.
Three security doors protect me,
my sisters, and my mom from the other hurt.
After the art project the volunteers leave
but the butterflies don’t.
Colored tissue paper clings
to the wings
of my heart’s memory.

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