It smelled out
My warm red blood
In the firm blue crooked vein
Hachured in a relief
Displaying it’s elevated terrain
Like a mountain range
Within the crook of my left elbow.
The needle’s proboscis
Dipped below the surface
Fast and on the first try.
It really got it’s hooks in there
Pulling back crimson.
In a parasitic transaction
The last mosquito of the season
Pushed the poison
Into my arm.
As the warmth of fever
Swept through my body
Delivering waves of false promises...
And not until then...
The sign of a true addict...
Did I bring my right hand down
In a quick motion
To kill the trespassing bastard.
I watched his black limbs flinch
Accepting death
Upon my bruised
Red, black and blue vein.
I watched his wax-paper wings
Stop moving
As the white-heat came upon me
And I kept living.
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