He's crafted from butterfly wings, so soft and delicate,
A vibrant display of blues, oranges, and golds.
While I gaze upon his beauty with a kind of humble admiration,
I can't help but wonder if I could, oh so slyly,
Yet violently,
Rip the colorful bits and pieces off
And assemble, however I'd like,
A collage of my own, a selfish project,
Another step closer to the finished product.