it's hard to breathe. when
mosquitoes sing. with their queen -
too heavy to fly
succulent dinner she had
benevolent me. on a platter of sleep
but she's damned noisy.
flapping wings. not alone -
fly by, fly in, fly on:
in endless berths. skin top base
like a 3D exploration -
these extreme dancers
fly-dancing on my skin.
their queen:
her's was majestic. focused.
sweet violin
she blew to my ears
my body her on-shore suckling
to her belly full; that
flip of hand. she got caught
my palm a canvass
of blood and death -
her death, my relief. but,
this nagging pain stays on.
headache,
of her making. sickness
of her calling - flip flap
of her wings. to her death,
of their queen.
it's hard to breathe. hard
to sleep, when mosquitoes fly -
when they dance as I sleep.
- Author: Ifeanyichukwu Onwughalu (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: May 21st, 2022 09:56
- Comment from author about the poem: Mosquitoes are all over here in tropical Africa. This poem is about them and my experience with them lately.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.