An awkward angled and elbowed crane
Bowed and tipped his hat to me--
Asked for my number and a date.

I turned my foxy nose up.
My eyebrows arched,
And my friends laughed.

Derision seeped through his lowly form.

Years later, I am shopping after
A hard day of work--
Sweaty, *****, ordinary.
I am buying tampons.

I run into him at the store
Through a mutual friend.
I do not recognize him.

He seems taller--maybe he has learned
Confidence.
His face is tan--acne gone.
He is handsome--muscular.
His clothes fit him well.

No awkward bowing or stooping,
But something in his eyes when
Our friend asks if we've met before,
And I say, "No."

After I walk away, it dawns on me
Like an egg's yolk cracking over my head
And dripping--oozing--down.

And I hope he recognized me too.

Warm scents of pancakes draw him to the kitchen,
But he's too aloof to accept crumbs from me.

Instead he brushes past my leg several times,
Then settles down to the window--

Ostensibly to birdwatch,
But I know what he really wants is to be seen,
To be admired.

"You can't touch me," he says with every purr.

You have to be mature to love a cat.

We planned our attack,
Chose our weapons carefully,
and strategized.

We would draw the enemy out
And corner him.
If he advanced,
We would immediately become
More aggressive.

ATTACK!

He began a retreat,
But we were ruthless.

Blood curdling war cries--
Animals in distress--

Die! Die! Die!

That spider didn't stand a chance.

They see much yearning within
Retreat:

A fresh start.

I killed a fly
For no other reason
Than that it was bothering me

But that is what flies do

Did it deserve death?

Now it's body is
Lying on the floor
Next to my feet

I am a murderer.

I tried to scoop up his lifeless body --
To resurrect it--
To breath into it
The breath of Life

But I am not God.
I don't give life.
I take it.