Not the delicate fickle beauties,
You see resting on a flower,
But the flitting little beasts that rage in my stomach,
At the very thought of you,

It's a feeling completely unfamiliar,
And difficult to describe,
Because it's not the raging rush of love,
That overwhelms the strongest of beings,
But it's not a juvenile fling,
That lasts a week before evaporating.

It's that burst of nerves,
That brings my stomach to my chest,
And crushes the air out of my lungs,
Leaving me incapable of forming words.

My vision becomes spotted,
And I can't get my bearings,
What IS IT about you,
That makes me so ridiculous?

But it's not just a physical sensation,
Though that's bad enough,
It's an entire mindset.
Constantly thinking,
Constantly dreaming,
And constantly smiling,
Which freaks out everyone around me.

I feel completely crazy,
Thinking this way all the time,
All it takes to send a girl of the deep end,
It would seem,
Is a well-placed Indiana Jones Reference.

And you probably think I'm a little weird,
With my clumsy and nerdy wats,
But when you laugh at my dumb jokes,
And share deeply profound thoughts without warning,
I get the feeling that maybe,
JUST MAYBE,
You have the butterflies too.