Well good morning! lol! Should've read this last night while I was lying in bed trying to sleep and failing miserably.

I'll disagree with quillfire's critique saying that making love and fucking can't be brought together in the same poem. I don't think one is beautiful and the other vulgar—that is cultural programming. Why shouldn't they both be beautiful? How are they separate, unless the intention behind the act is severed thus?

I think we need to refer to @zen-art's post about Beltane, celebrating sex, passion, and LIFE to remember that sexuality is sacred and it was the church who tried to make it vulgar. (@trucklife-family also had an excellent Beltane post on this subject.) I'm not against religion as a whole, but there's been a lot of damage done by the patriarchy and the church, and I'll call it out here! They've done a good job of brainwashing us.

I'm still trying to reconstruct my thoughts and feelings on this subject, to let go of false ideas that keep me from experiencing my wild, free self as fully as I'd like—lifetimes of baggage dragging me down and censoring my ability to experience ecstasy. Damn patriarchy, making women's bodies nothing but an object to be tamed, shamed and restrained!

The good news is, the more we talk about this subject in a respectful way, the less taboo it is.

As for feedback, I think this poem morphs one butterfly into another. It was a bit of a stretch for me to shift from the delicate insect I first envisioned into the fleshy butterfly in the latter part of the poem. Part of that might be my conditioned mind fighting with that perceived division quillfire was talking about. If you'd made the butterfly more human with a suggestion of arms or eyes or cheeks or something in the beginning, that would've eased the transition.

The repetition works to help envision the dance, as does the meter in most of the lines. You could get rid of words like "somewhat, faint, and gently (or tiny)," descriptors that take away from the beat. Also extra words like "had"... here, let me show you what I mean:

She gently licked drops of sweat from my body,
this butterfly dance ended up a little naughty
but oh so nice, such beautiful sultry wings!
I'll be sure to listen hard - when a butterfly sings.

I deleted a few words to enhance the flow. Make sense?

Each thrust a little faster, little harder, little deeper
until the world melted away and we became one creature.

^^ This is my favourite part of the poem, partially because of the use of italics and bold to illustrate the point, partially because I like the rhyme, and also because I think it does an excellent job of merging "making love" and "fucking." It's a wild act, one of passion. I like to see the two brought together.

I think the poem is respectful as well as playful, and that you've brought a spiritual element into it, which isn't always an easy thing to do with this subject.

Now that I've written a post of a comment, I'll leave you with a little gift. Picked up this butterfly at Renaissance Festival yesterday. ;)