For ----

You keep pushing me handfuls of butterflies

And I have no idea what to do with them

Except stand here, dumbstruck, and try not

To crush them. My hands are heavy

They weigh me down, although the rest

Of myself is about to take flight

Flipped inside-out, chest cavity first

Heart high in the atmosphere, feet on the ground.

Fireworks pop along my navel, zing behind my spine

And I taste the lemon you ate earlier

The one that made me laugh and say

I couldn't handle anything so tart. But you are

So sweet, you're sugar mixed with citrus

The lemonade made from fruit given to us

Unexpected and yet never more welcome.