Sunday, June 26, 2011

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.