She is not always methodical in her actions,
she had never, in her strange time on Earth
been so inadvertently hurt,
and it was blithely unexpected.
The feeling is similar to
some tenacious gnat
you try to smash,
but it twitches still,
stammering in its
last-ditch try to fly,
checking to see if it’s following,
buzzing muffled questions in the night.
Finally, it is lifeless on the tile,
and she thinks,
somehow I still manage
to sweat despite the chill,
and she wonders if
she is poison after all.