Still giving me butterflies I was delivering your family the news that your brother, the colonel, was trampled by his own men. You were unbraiding your hair with a knife to remove the butterflies. I waved but you have not spoken since you were seven and there was an incident with a crow. Follow me overseas? Chronicle of a marriage foretold You: ninety-three, a whore, kneading dough with the heel of your shoe. Me: the…