Poem: Mosquitoes On Screen

 

Mosquitoes on Screen

 

honor loathes such tongues

which bash stitches of tin.

an argot of bloodthirsty whines,

forever obsessive, sharp 

and lean.

it is whispered 

 

they once gave too much.

too honest.

too intimate.

nothing left in the aftermath of failed love

but a shriveled quest.

now dozens of skinless wraiths

scrape a cold, threadbare sieve,

poking for any drop of warmth.

any aura of contact.

any meager touch.

before seeking comfort

in the dark.

===============

10/6/24 eds  ... I am the mosquito

6/16/24 ... more edits, somehow fascinated by this poem but never getting 'the prestige'

8/28/22  significant mods ... never get it right