Colony

In an inner-city block,

a woman is flopped on the bed

of a third-floor tenement,

smeared with blood

around the lips, the throat,

drawing insects

from within the walls,

shiny black and brown creatures

that squeeze through silent lips,

or drop into ear canals.

Elsewhere, the building is alive:

staircase trampled by never-ending feet,

room above, a cacophony

of arguments and chair scrapes,

apartment below,

an interminable coughing fit,

outside, traffic noise

and people going places.

The world is no longer her business.

The tiny creatures that cling to her skin

have more provenance than she.

Whoever finds the body

uncovers a colony.