Free as a blue beetle

Free as a blue beetle on a black hand,
Looking for a place on your palm
Where I can take off –
You stroke my hardened wings
As I stay still, my tiny paws
Like invisible hooks digging into
That skin the same color as mine -
Where can I take off ?
Leaving your hand open
Gives too much sky to this blue beetle –

If I fly, then you can’t follow -
But I’m still here, no longer quite as free.
And this blue beetle asks : why take me ?
Why pick me up when there’s nowhere to go ?

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