Butterflies
When I talk to you
My neurons fire slow
Butterflies from my gut
Travel upstream
Through my brain stem
Following a path like so.
They flutter in my Thalamus
Hitting many switches
Causing my palms to sweat
While pores open to kisses
Then they travel to the front
And nestle in the pre-frontal cortex
I bat my lashes, but they wouldn’t leave
Instead they secrete a poison
A love juice to paralyze me
So that I couldn’t see
Blind and giddy, I’ve fallen in love
Intoxicated without choice
But with the distinction
Of butterflies, not doves.
-Rani
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