Insecthood

I have been drifting endlessly. People have started noticing us a lot lately. Until yesterday, we were insignificant and sometimes feared. Some said we were made of sawdust. Our presence is materialized with dust. What color and what shape is my dust? 

When insects get attention, it is always an infestation. We are alienated by even our own kind. We only fly to light together because we’re the same kind. I told them it’ll burn but they were deafened by the glowing intensity. 

I grow wings; wings heavy with dust, laden with others’ favourite shade and shape. 

Can the disoriented give direction?