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.