Flea Powder Footprints

A whirlwind of dry skin flakes and coarse curly hairs 
wobbles along, following your trail of smoky toe smudges
that skip like stepping stones across the barren floorboards,
criss-crossed by floury paw prints.
You've spent days flicking insurgent freckles
from your ankles, your wrists,
as the cat attempts to dislodge them from her fur 
with constant licks. The bodies 
of the wounded wriggle and twitch,
fallen warriors in this itching, gnawing war.
Outside in the yard, the bedbugs huddle in their bunkers,
the chiggers dig deeper in their foxholes 
with their fingers on their triggers,
and beneath the porch eaves, a nest bristling with bird mites
ticks like an incendiary device, counting down the seconds 
before it detonates
like the sandpapered letter in your hand,
I regret to inform you...