J ~ My bedroom the cemetery

Where do the dead insects go?
There was the shell of the wasp on the windowsill
where you lean and look
like a ghost in the printed light

A shattered stain of a moth
on the splintered, black-veined frame
where I caught it and crushed it
shutting the window - an accident
a terrible accident of manners

There must have been hundreds
of miniature corpses on the carpet
My feet must have eaten them
in a fit of despair

For a moment I don't envy those men
who look like they don't give a ------
for dead insects
I think they've passed over something beautiful
and after all, they don't yet have you
or my allegiance and loyalty
Dear, heavenly girl