Not Gnat

An ash
From the former shitter's match
Masked itself as a gnat
Floating down down
Near my fingers
On the magazine's corner
I swatted at it
Still it floated
Around my hands
Intent on landing
Finally I opened my hand
It found me gazing
Upon it
Shaped like an embryo
Smeared into a foggy imprint
On a thumb's fleshy base.