The boy...

...sits, eating peanut butter out of the jar
with a table spoon, which doesn't fit
in his mouth,
watching a ladybird put one foot in front of the other.

He rises, foot-numb,
massages his toes back into prickly feeling,
and finds, in the process, a small hole,
maybe moth chewed,
in the very centre of his heel.
Of course he puts his pinkie through it
and the grey threads
snap,
give way around his skin
as though they were nothing but cobwebs.

The ladybird has gone,
probably gone to find some aphids to eat, he reasons.

He picks up the jar again,
and finds it almost empty,
and the spoon won't fit into the bottom
any better than it fitted into his mouth.