butterflies

the butterflies flap their wings

inside of me

and my initial instinct

is to deem this act distinct

and separate

from what the mind measures

as "pleasure"

but the more I feel into it

the more I am literate

at reading the riper way of

reasoning with these

supposed nervous tickles,

thus realizing theirodynamic ripples

are more sweet

than bitter,

more savory

than sour

and only necessary for supreme

victory

and responsible wielding

of limitless

power

this and any hour