I give birth to butterflies
in your stomach, capture some
and tell others how to flutter
their wings,
I can mix your words in a stew
so you stumble and lose your
smooth step in your spoken stride,
I can make dreaming and daze
your best friends when I swim
in your blood, dive into the beat
of your chest, and skinny dip
in your head;

someday when you two look
away from each other’s gaze
I will also be there to patch your
worn quilted faces,
when you go to the beach
I will be there too,
arm around both of you,
watching a sun splash in descent;
I’ll turn you around you’ll see
your land give birth to rays
at dawn
again and again.

— Joseph M Watts