_

Resting in the scintillations of fireflies,

Cooling skin 'gainst purpling night,

Each hair, sentinel 

to breathy kiss of mosquito wing.

This one, 

settles on for blood-theft,

and with slow and practiced skill, 

I murder her and future millions.

I kill a dozen ardent mothers,

and drop gray bodies 

for morning's ants to take away.

Then no more come,

or I fail to notice.

And darkling night 

is flecked and flashed with greenish gold

by beetle assignations.

_