I didn't have a choice,
climbing in your web—
the stuff you made stuck me,
got on my pretty feet.
I'm on my back,
unable to attack,
antenna curled in a frown...
How can I ever get down?
Then I get up,
I beg you to drink.
Go ahead—
take a sip.
It's very sweet.
And from the moment
your fangs enter,
you change.
All the leaves
I used to chomp,
the bitter ones,
the ones nobody else
could stomach—
the ones too tough to digest.
I ate them.
Changed them.
And, well, you know the rest.