I am a flower; you are a butterfly

You are not a flower
blossoming alone in a desert.
I am not a starved butterfly
crossing a desert with heavy flaps.

You may be a nameless flower
blooming furtively in a dazzling rose garden.
I may be an obscure old scrubby butterfly
dancing in a glamorous group dance of butterflies.

Despite all of these,
a butterfly is seduced by your sweet nectar;
a flower is craving for an ecstasy
through my long winding proboscis.

Yeah!  It would be alright
if you are called a butterfly;
if I am called a flower.

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