Why do you bug me, little mosquito
with your siren-whine which mines my mind?
You scream past my ears, invisible
in the dark, greedy for my blood,
my vital fluid your refreshment;
my existence, your sustenance.
I wish to squish you, little skeeter.
I search for you, ungraspable
in this opaque night, you are concealed;
My thoughts unhinged by your rasping scream.
Vociferous in your hunger, you search
for nourishment from my spirit.















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