The butterfly rest on my arm
Can its stubborn strength
save the world?
Is it touching
everyone and everything
With its butterfly effect.?

Or can it just save me?
From my desires.
From my needs and lust.
From my loneliness and despair.
Like the warmth
of a perfumed dreamed embrace
In the cold darkness of night.

Can it end the burning cauldron
Of intensity
inside my wounded chest?
This aching
This burning desire.
This smoldering fire.
This latent heat.
This lonely heart.