the narcissist

there seems to be

no logic

to the bee sting.

you have no anger or acrimony

towards

it.

and yet it flies upon

you

and stings your arm.

she looks at you,

you look at her.

what is there to understand?

she shrugs and goes off

to die.

it's what i do, she says

without apology.

no reason, or explanation.

it's who i

am. it's how i fly.