ant paths 

while you slept i traced 
the paths ants took through your dorm.
like a river of little hungers
from the windowsill
to a mug on your desk. then, a march
along the ceiling to reach
the keurig in the corner. 
they never bothered you the way they
haunted me. i would imagine
waking up entangled. maybe even
being taken away piecemeal
by their parade. we met in winter
when there weren't any ants.
a snowstorm is a perfect place
to love someone without knowing
very much about them.
&, after all, isn't that the easiest 
place to love someone?
sun in a box of tissue paper.
spring brought the ants. at first,
i would try to kill them. my thumb
a little massacre. they knew though
where the trail was already. 
they would return. you would say,
"why do you bother with them?"
my heart like a balloon drifting
on the ceiling. i did not have
a good answer for you. instead,
i just want to the bathroom
to wash my hands with the dorm's
pink sickly soap. washed my face
with water. what would the ants 
come to take first? my fingers?
my eyelashes? one by one.
i think we both knew that
there wasn't enough snow
to keep us together. there is always
a little silent ending before
the official breaking up. i think it came
in the dark of morning
when i watched the ants. 
a little shadow part of myself, thinking,
but if i followed them,
then they couldn't get me.