READER (2)

You’re eating yogurt; I’m an insect

At your feet. You wipe your hands

And peer. Part of you feels nothing,

A lively part of you wants to crush

My tiny intricacy. But I’ve got wings

And dart—catch me in your net,

And I’ll admire your nose through the jar

In your bedroom. We’ll share

The same nightmare in our sleep,

And if I hear you calling somewhere

I’ll come running—I’ll forget all

The ugly things we said, and we can wear

This plague of hornets like a cape,

March into town for a ham sandwich,

And be the shouting in the trees.