circling
I see you
I want you to see me
but you view things differently
loudest at night
frantic flapping
I try to rest my head
headbutting a wall
until the window opens
you never take it as a hint
a buzz accompanied by
sirens
seagulls
scooters
sometimes
circling
if I don’t see you
you’re in my ears
vibrations
kiss my lobes
push through
the mucus membrane
scratching behind
my retina
my sinuses
nibbling tissue
tearing tendons
if I can’t see you
my lips part
you tune your antennae
past night time drool
into tubes and tunnels
vessels and veins
vibrations
scorched by stomach acid
I wish I could take as much space
as you do
unapologetic residues
maximum volume
small, but
you keep them away
instead of embarrassed to be
moving through
with a fleshy leaking body
like moving
never feels quite right, but
sometimes I remember
I’m bigger than you
trying to make breakfast
crusty eyes
my phone keeps buzzing
I open the cupboard
you land on my face
I drop my phone
you’re buzzing
I shake you down
to the countertop
I grab a soft cloth because
doing this with my skin
would be
too wet
too honest
I press it against your tiny delicate body
your exoskeleton
can hardly contain itself
it looks like small shreds of tree bark
my phone buzzes
a chemical reaction
bigger than us
I try picking you out of the fibres
you’re deep in the weave
you get stuck under my fingernails
I hope I didn’t hurt you
your twitching felt bad
reminded me of when
kids in school lit matches
orange flames up against
spindly daddy long legs
their screams loud
“it’s just escaping air”
they’d say
bigger than us
whenever I think you’ve gone
you’re already back
multiplying and organising
copied and pasted
your larvae in my cornflakes
in the pores of my cheeks
brittle legs tickle
long strands of fine hair