you are trying to read a book
outside, but a mosquito nips
your ankle

(the world could be harsher:
a thousand different conditions
could be worse)

you will your attention back
to the words, whatever “will”
and “attention” are boggles you

(glass could shatter more easily,
or honey might expire, or some
apex predator may hunt you)

your book is beginning to make
sense again, and its narrative
influences your total memory

(maybe wasps are fatally venomous
in the harsher world, maybe people
are just less cooperative)

your favorite character is falling
in love in this particular chapter –
to her demise, you suspect

(it could have happened that in
this world, your father’s immune
system was too weak)

you are trying to read a book
outside, but a beetle hums near
your ear and you startle

(the world could be a harsher
place, but it sustains you in a
cradle of correct conditions)

your character is trying to read
a book outside, but her “lover” plans
the murder like an apex predator

(maybe your favorite character never
got to feel love before she died –
like a sad mosquito lacking memory)

you close your book and wonder
if “love” without the narrative that
memory provides is just instinct, a nip

(the world could be a harsher place,
but it is apparently just difficult
enough)