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(Pardon the intrusion.)

A speck of dust, a mote, a plank
Falls off my little powder wings
Sometimes destroyed,
sometimes eaten by your glow.
Your touch degrades my dust body
Scales sliding into the fissure of your kiss
But the bit that I save in my heart
Is my little chitin-skinned spite.
I scream as you bite
Stop following me! &
you say, “I cannot move.
I am still right here.”
But as I turn and try to fly away
You are right in front of me.

Hi 'monster,

[quote]chitin-skinned spite.[/quote
powerful little phrase, nonymonster.

Couple that "chitin-skinned" spite with a "nony-monster" and we have an interesting glimpse into your personality, perhaps.
Watch out they don't burn you at the stake
Very poetic; even if a bit dark for this sun-seeker.

That "glow" you refer to is culturally-induced.
To escape it momentarily go bush-walking or become an apostate!

Such freedom!

Keep writing and posting; I love your work.

Mat.

Aww, pshaw, I spent several years trying to get struck by lightning. It turned out to be a rather dull hobby, which is probably what I deserved.
I agree that having fun is way more fun than moping. But moping is so irresistible! Maybe I should walk it off.
Thanks for the thumbs up.