Silverfish

You berated me for killing silver fish. Called me
an unwholesome vegetarian, or in so many words,
not like I ate them afterwards.
Perhaps that made it worse.

But you never saw them
crawling in the night whilst
you slept. They would eat anything.
Daz washing power. The runner beans of

bathroom carpet filaments.
However clean things were
they’d find them. Fall on shards
of hair or dust. Mine. Yours.

And some are fatter than others.

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