Gnat

When spring
wakes again
at its resurrection,
year after year
and the buds begin to open
and their colors invite your pleasure,
like an eye in masterbation.
Sunsets appear, or rather you
watch them more frequently
and the spring which has awoken
is living
but I am not.
The beauty is quite distracting,
it darts against my
window like a gnat,
scraping the grey filth,
collected over months.
I imagine this gnat
swallowing me whole
and we fly
engorged,
sucking on light bulbs
in the night.