A Bedbug On My Palm
now the bedbug
finally finds
its place
in one of the lines
of the palm of my hand
its life
depends on the nail of my thumb
its weapon now
is simply being a ball
all its feet
hidden under its spherical wings
it is not praying
it is simply waiting for its death
within a palm
there is no choice
except my own
indecision
poem by Antonio Liao
Added by Poetry Lover
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