Powertrip

Another one crawls by, even larger than the others.

Alone and seeking sugar or something sweet, the ant circles, then lingers by my feet.  I sweep them off the counters and pluck them from my clothes. Literally,  a tiny nuisance, they walk right under my nose. I move my shoe as if to squish, but this one must have made a wish. For I pause to question why, I am deciding it should die. Who am I? What is my lie?

Telling myself, I must be rid

of this innocent insect.

Guess what I did?

Copyright 2019, Illustration by Mar Startari, 2019

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