simple structure, i envy your exoskeleton
and the soft pus within, cased under delicate
pressure; did you think yourself invincible
when you stepped in my cup and got your wings
drenched in yellow-red soup? and did you think
yourself something magnificent, bleeding impulse
crushed— you would shatter beneath my weakest
finger, splatter paint my skin and fathom not my
size but the softness of cells knitted in haphazard

for a moment, the moment your million eyes
set on wet pools of black and red-lined white,
you pitied my complexity and weren't afraid to