sometimes it's there in plain sight and sometimes it hides in the drain of the sink in the bathroom, the kitchen, the tub

waiting to catch you, watching with telescope eyes that turn corners, skitter through keyholes, camouflage themselves in the leaves

of the plum tree that sits like a king in the sunlight and taps code on your window at night

with fingers of fruit as an offering--but

don't take it!

it's bound to be bitter and spoiled