Butterflies, Again


Fingertips feel numb. Palms feel cold. Stomach feels light. Head feels warm.

I welcome this unease.

Two become one from 2,000 to none in perhaps less than seven.

Which makes me worry. I don’t get hungry anymore.

I welcome this unease.

I won’t be unfaithful, but I might stray. I might stray. No, only for a minute. But it is always you. Something always brings me back to you…unwillingly, powerfully, endearingly, courageously, always.

I welcome this unease.

Let the butterflies consume my heart when I see you again. Let them take over. Let them feast. Feast until they have had their fill, and more. So it will last me until our next unspoken encounter.