MOSQUITO

you landed on my bare skin
and i barely noticed the tickle
of your eyelash legs blinking
against my sensitive flesh

i froze in shock as you pricked me
with your long poison needle head
i stalled in ambivalence
and you began to draw my blood

i knew you would do it
and i don't blame you
it is in your nature
to want that
to quench your thirst
to pierce me
and make me itch

i could have stopped you
i could have squished you
and spilled the blood
you have collected
in your ripe red abdomen

i sat, motionless and indifferent
while you picked up and flew off
carrying away the juice
of my bitter heart

i still scratch the place
where you touched me
that itchy lump in my skin
that will never be satisfied

i can't be a blood donor
for every little pest
trying to spawn a nest
of emotional larvae

i may not notice
the metamorphosis
but your offspring
will surely emerge
to sting me next year

i'd like to believe
you are an isolated
incidental insect
the sole survivor
on this itchy, blood
stained terrain

somehow you escaped
the hand that sought
to flatten vexation
and smear its
shameless profit

©Copyright 2004 Sheila Cook.