In the quiet shadows of my room,
I unleash a secret swarm,
tiny creatures crawl and loom,
on my flesh they form a storm.
Antennae graze, legs hold tight,
each movement sharp and precise,
on the edge of disgust and need,
I find this living vice.
Creeping sensations, skin my canvas,
they dance in whispered trails,
each touch a taboo, my craving madness,
in their tiny legs, my grail.
They scurry under, over, within,
tracing paths only they know,
this communion, skin to chitin,
where repulsion and arousal grow.
Infest me, tiny wanderers,
with your primal crawl,
make me shiver, make me tremble,
make me surrender all.
Alive with every tiny footfall,
disgust tangled with desire,
it’s a dark, forbidden ritual,
this insect-kindled fire.
I close my eyes,
feel the weight of each tiny passing guest,
in their chaos,
my inhibitions rest.
What’s feared by many
brings ecstasy in the crawl that others dread,
in the frenzy of their tiny steps,
I find my hunger fed.
So let them crawl,
let them claim my body their shifting land.
In their small grip,
I find a flame too fierce to understand.
It’s primal, it’s profound,
on my skin, their tiny dances,
in the world of the small and strange,
I find my darkest trances.