Venus Envy

stole a Jesus figurine from
my aunt’s house in second
grade. a Venus flytrap sat
outside, right by it. always
wondered how it was to
taste without buds,
how the plant sealed its lips,
kissed goodbye.

thought i was an insect,
supplying some grim
nutrition, thought
there might
really be a trap.
he had a sharp tongue;
even so, i miss the taste.
i never had much but Jesus.