I am a mole in your garden
and your chasm
is my refuge

I am a spider on your wall
watching you undress
from my corners

I am a moth
wooed by your luminescence
and that's where I abide

I am a mosquito in your net
drawn by the warmth
of your flesh

I am a summer beetle
living the winters
on one of your paintings

I am the shadow of your being
and everything else
transfixed

You are the story of my life

and if I killed it
would that set me free

copyright  Jann C. Castor  © 1998