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Mosquito
by Rachel C JohnsonNobody loves like an insect
who only desires the touch of
your skin and the taste
of your blood so deep inside
your shallow flesh.
Others have tried, tried to love
the way such pests and predators,
such parasites, do. Tried to love
me who cannot be soft
and cannot be gentle,
and whose skin is immune
to stings as passionate
as that of yours.
You are no mosquito,
no bug of preyand,
if you were, you wouldnt break
through the barrier of my flesh.
Nothing breaks skin which has been
knitted and sewn to keep out
the pests.
Water and air can come in;
breath and bath can reach deeper
than kisses and embraces
and love.
And nobody loves like an insect,
which you claim to be in the evenings,
when the sun has set and the lights are glowing,
drawing you to their touch.
But mosquito you are not,
and mosquito only does my skin
break for, open and wide,
exposing my fragile heart.
03/17/2008 Author's Note: Lots of inspiration from Ingrid Michaelson's songs, "Mosquito", "Breakable", and "Masochist", although I hope I did will to get my point across, instead of hers. :)
Posted on 03/17/2008
Copyright © 2010 Rachel C Johnson
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Coleman Demiurge on 03/17/08 at 05:24 PM Yes, point well made, and well taken. I never really looked at a mosquito like that before, as I tend to have nothing but contempt for them, but excellent symbolism nevertheless. Maybe I will look at them differently now... Probably not, they like biting me. Anyway, great poem. |
| Posted by CM Bauer on 03/20/08 at 12:44 AM I definitely see your inspirations here. It is almost as if you are darkly weeping inside, behind shadows, with this poem. I wish I could just break in and rescue you. |
| Posted by Beth K Hannah on 02/17/10 at 01:27 PM i like it so much. thank you! |
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