When I think of you now
I think of one of those magnified pictures of insects
Not a fly
It would have to be more beautiful than that
A glorious butterfly, with rainbow, stained glass wings
That catch the light
In every color under the sun
And then blow it up
Bigger, bigger, a million times
Until I can see the scaly surface of your skin
Crusted with scalloped knives
And your eyes
Your beautiful blue eyes
In the cruel gaze of the lens
Have turned ugly and gray
I see myself reflected in them
In a honeycomb of mirrors
A kaleidoscope of selves
I'm so enchanted,
So fascinated
With the multiplication of my image,
I don't even notice that you've drawn your long, thin snout
From behind your wings
And unsheathed it
I don't feel a thing when you plunge it into my skin
And strike a vein
I don't hear the slurping sound
I'm watching myself up until the very last moment
When you withdraw
You pull the needle out slowly,
Gorged on my blood
And now, it hurts
I would like to say that at least I was able to swat you away
Like the tiny insect you are
But you're too clever for that
By the time I even realize what's happened
You've already moved on to the next flower
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