I am the sum of my parts, yet not part of the sums,
The stiff arithmetic of commerce
Bores me with its pedantry;
I cry out “why?”, but no one hears.
Enter the butterfly.
Oh coruscating wings,
Oh love, oh wonder!
Why do they talk in grey while my heart leaps rainbows?
I sing, wing, fling in silence,
To bless the dark-grey thinkers with its beauty.