The Bearable Lightness of Butterflies

My face is a sunflower
succumbing to butterflies.
They taste me with their feet
their wings wide open
bless me with longevity,
a lightness I can’t fathom.
I keep still as a chrysalis
waiting for the big moment.
 
They do no harm, these love vagrants—
monarchs, yellow sulfurs, swallowtails
crisscrossing in endless assent,
their forty days on earth.
With blameless eyes fixed
on scattered clouds, I listen
for their gentle whispers,
telling me what it’s like to be guilt-free.