Myronn Hardy

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Mosquito

She visits me when the lights are out,
when the sun is loving another
part of the world.

She passes through the net I sleep underlike
a cloud its holes are easily navigable.

Her buzzing tells me that
she doesn't want my legsarmscheeks
or chest.

No.

She craves adventurewanting to travel through
the dark canalthe spiraling cave
where earthquakes are wind.

Her prize is in sightthe gelatinous mass controlling this machine.
How beautiful she thinks it isher needle mouth
filling with water.

Her children will know physicsgeometrywill understand
EnglishSpanishperhaps Portuguese. They will be
haunted their whole lives by treesguns
and a boom that won't cease.

She cries before drinkingthe fluid is
salty-sweet. Oh if my mother had
done this for meI would have lived.

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