2 a.m., I’m wide awake again, with
Warm butterflies for company
After months and months and here I am
Tingles rise to phantom boiling points.
It’s not supposed to be like this
At least it never was before
My swelling vessels, tightened lungs
Tugging me in apparent reverse.
But I’m no fool, clear skies ahead
I’ll not forsake the whimsy yet
‘Tis but proof once and for all, it’s
Possible to catch a snowflake.