UNTITLED: COCOON (draft 001 rough)

coffee stop. grand
rapids, minnesota. the barista
tells my daughter
that when caterpillars go inside,
when they
spin shut their cocoon
they do not grow wings.
they do not turn into butterflies.
instead
they soften
melt
into a substance
reminiscent of honey.
it’s from this sticky magic,
this absolute
wet
of possibility
that something new is formed.