pulsar magnet
i met a ladybug.
it was making strides across my windowsill.
up from my chest, sensation rushed through me and i almost flicked her away from my sight.
instead i dropped my towel to the floor, into a pile with the rest.
and i sprawled across tile, back against my boxers, my snoopy button-up, my plaid pants.
i spotted another, and my heart beat a breadth faster.
stoplight before the insect, my finger looming.
instead i covered my eyes.
soaking until my raisins turned soggy,
in the boiling tub i called home.
a ladybug began to squirm.
fallen into hell, where i had found my relief.
and backwards my body slid, as i splashed about.
a crude imitation.
and for a moment i paused, and with my gaze upon it little hands grasped a shower curtain.
they slipped, and i pitied her.
and she began
to die there.
so i offered my finger beside, parting the waters.
revulsion filling my throat as i felt miniature claws grasp the grooves of my fingerprint.
but, i set her on dry porcelain. just beside me.
and i watched
as she began to spread her wings and,
with strange motions,
made what i can only presume was an effort to groom herself.
and i could stand it no longer, and curled my index into my thumb.
i brush my teeth with the faucet running,
sometimes i feel guilty for the waste.
im unsure why i become uncomfortable,
brushing without its noise.
but i saw a ladybug.
crawling along the edge of that sink.
where the faucet continued to sing.
i wanted to kill her.
ivory lichen