My Mosquito

I hold in my hand
a mosquito.

He bites me again and
again sucks my blood
but I don’t
kill him
I don’t want
to he’s a living
thing just
like me.

He buzzes so terribly
continues to suck
I cry in pain
shout in anger
but I keep holding
on I keep
my hands
cupped.

His biting subsides
his buzzing has
stopped he’s had
enough –

enough of my blood

enough of my love for the living.

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