In the flit of a hummingbird’s wings,
Someone can die in your eyes.
A flutter of lips that clings
And forms a sty.

Like a featherless chick falls from a beam,
Never again to lift its still-blind head,
One weak stitch pops the seam
And unravels the thread.

There is no back
To go once the path splinters
And rain dissolves your mutual track.
You have to leave behind what hinders.

Excise the spider’s bite-
It only did what spiders do,
So do not lapse into futile spite
And walk away from who you outgrew.