Nits

Tiny woodlice like creatures lie beneath the skin;
barely visible but acutely felt as they wriggle
and squirm until they break through the dermis
falling hungrily upon the sliver of a tree;
scurrying to find a formation that fits.
Some days they find their positions effortlessly;
pausing just long enough for me to capture them.
On others they just lay dying where they fall
leaving a grotesque, wasted watermark
on an otherwise perfect pristine page.

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