I never thought we'd
reach the day
when your name no longer
gave me butterflies

when it gave me nothing
not tears
not hope
not sparks
not even the faint memory of a song.

I haven't forgotten you,
don't worry,
your brand's still there on
my heart where you left it,

and the butterflies are still there,
they line the bottom of my stomach
-sleeping-
barely lifting an antenna at
the sound of your distant voice

and you're still always close to
my thoughts, so close
I can hear you pacing
the perimeter of my mind,
occasionally pausing to
knock on my door

it's not that I can't hear you,
don't worry,
I can hear every gentle tap
and the soft noise of your breath,
only a slab of wood between us

and it's not that I don't want you
to come in
it's not that I don't want you
it's just

the butterflies are sleeping

and I don't want to wake them up.