shapeshifter

A drop of sweat
just out of view
becomes a bug, a-crawling
down. The sensitivity of dew
in motion through a leg-hair
town. Alerted to this intruder,
I feel creeped out in several
ways. For what if it's a bug?
But what
if forces I dispatch by hand
return with sweaty hand
and frown?

Perhaps it's best a game
to play: fall back, rely
on secondary sensor breach. With skin
perimeter set high, a bite
will surely bring down hand
to teach. And then
with grim set ways,
we'll see the blood.
Our own, but it
had to be shed.

To spare the innocent
sweat-drop

from making us
the fools,
instead.