the edges of myself

overrun and overcome by the river

of emotion– the soft insistent flow

that surges without explanation–

a wandering thought gives rise

to the butterflies

that live inside my stomach

and travel through my body (to some places

more than others)

when you come to mind.

 

moving through carefully placed postures

and understood roadblocks–

the logic of them unable to assuage

the current of feelings that rushes forth–

now threatening to destroy

the beautifully crafted dam– the one

whose precision and deliberate planning

i respect– wholeheartedly–

understand

with each intelligent

cell in my brain–

the righteousness of the dam–

 

and yet–

this tumult, these emotions–

they threaten its perfection

call into question the role of will–

leave me with my hands thrown up

in bewilderment–

a tiny pool of resignation–

wanting simply

to EXIST

in the whole truth, 

butterflies and all.