I love them with a stillness like regret.
And when they enter me I gather to
meet them inside where orphean minuets
loll in the dark. I’m passive as they chew
the part of me I sense I was created
for. I can feel their quivering antennae
discover me before they bite a quid
of what I think is rightly theirs. For I
am just a lifeless tool to please
and give a tiny respite in the droll—
the work from which the ants must find release.
Poor darlings, life must take a violent toll.
So like a lover lying on the bed
I open slowly; gently nod my head.
