Butterflies

After Pablo Neruda's Sonnet XVII

So close that your eyes close as I fall asleep
only to dream what you dream, for I exist
solely because of you and the butterflies.
Not the monarchs, or skippers, or even
the swallowtails, but the creatures that flood
the dark space in my gut, never seen, but unnervingly felt.
A million little creatures, crashing, colliding
into one another, little wings tickling my insides
until I feel overwhelmed by the uneasiness
they cause--the nausea I never want to cease.

So I hold you tighter, because you are the reason
these creatures will forever have a home,
the reason they illuminate a place otherwise
shaded. You are the reason what is mine
is yours, and yours, mine--the reason your hand on my chest
is my hand, and your eyes close as I fall asleep.