Disclaimer: I own nothing CSI.
Segmented, Part II
Because I am an insect,
You will not mind that
I do not say much;
My habits,
my body,
my lifespan will
Rush through your ear canals
While you sleep;
You will hear incessant buzzing:
All will be clear to you.
All will be clear to you.
Because I am an insect,
You will unlatch this
Insectarium, and I will
Scurry over,
around,
between
My texts,
my desk,
my insectarium;
You will see me under
My own microscope:
All will be clear to you.
All will be clear.
Because I am an insect,
You will cradle
Me in your palm;
My legs,
my thorax,
antennae will
Tingle,
tickle your skin,
signal your wings;
You will flutter,
Your heart will flutter:
All will be clear to you.
See my handprint on these walls of glass
As you march expressly through these halls,
Halls like the lone labyrinth in my mind
And the neurons charged expressively:
These halls,
Cold halls;
My mind,
Hard mind.
And
When you unearth enough cold hard facts,
You will march into my glass office,
Present the evidence, and charge me.
Because I am an insect,
You will not mind that
I have lately been
Interested in beauty.
You will not mind that
Metamorphosis comes
Slow to the insecure;
your beauty,
my beauty.
You will not mind that
I will never confess,
I will never be able:
All will be clear.
All is clear
Since I met you:
The art of safety,
The bareness of emotion,
The beauty of life's cycles;
And when I am an insect we will make beauty together,
we will decompose together.
For now we will study beauty.