Ant
How do ants love? Do they love in isolation. I would fancy myself as one.
Then, I would circumnavigate your resplendent glory with humility and folded arms.
I know you do not care anymore, ants do not come out in the night.
When they do, they shiver with uncertainity. The time makes a mammoth leap across the globe and I worry about how a sweep of your frail arms or smirk can mean different things to me at different points of time. We usually hunt as a pack and tiny specks of pheromone dot our way. I would love to call it honey with which I mark my boundary around you. Yet you threaten to break my tentacles and erase my half-blind alleys with the tip of a finger. I would forever move around the imagined fulcrum in a tizzy till I stray back to my colony.
