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a wasp trapped in a clear dome
confused by the wood
that was no longer tree

the man was contemplating love
like an insect’s shadow
on a bookshelf

let's build a city together
she said from the other room
and upturned a vase

they drank more wine
and watched their skyline grow

he loved how the light through glass
made the wasp’s shadow blue

the bowl above—a sky to the dome—
a curve of cloudlessness

his white vase juxtaposed her
black foundation

she felt as lightheaded as a tipped-over glass
he felt like sloshing against her walls again

how each element played off the others
swelled the couple with pride
even as the wasp grew more impatient

this kind of beauty has a price
she said and lifted the dome
still echoing an angry buzz