Mosquito

There wasn’t much to do

that night

except for looking at

the road & you

shining in the dimpled light

We stopped for a break.

You bought a smoke

and I got afraid 

when you told me

your plans for the night.

The sun had done sunk

way down below

the haunting timberline 

when you brushed

through the ripped denim 

on my thigh.

I sat there waiting

to say a good line,

and you could plainly see,

I ain’t one of your kind.

We parked in a quiet

place all alone

and didn’t touch

each other at all.

You told me bout your

folks, your ex, 

and all your best jokes,

your biggest fears

and your deepest hopes.

I told you that I

usually stay in past

a certain time, 

but it was 

already past midnight.

When the next sun set,

you smelled the sweat

and came looking for company

under a sweaty southern sky.

I saw you differently that night.

Summer is ‘bout over

and you’re still roaming

around this town

buzzing in my ear,

hovering over my skin

flying in my line of sight. 

I see you all the time.

In passing, in traffic

in the Walmart checkout line.

Lurking around open water

I’m scared to stay in 

one place too long.

One bite and I swell.

The blood rushes over me.

I’m an itching, twitching,

bright red burning mess.

Picardin, Eucalyptus, 

and even deet —

anything to keep someone like 

you from biting me.