From a faux-deep mosquito
You assume I am in hiding That I find you terrifying When my mouth can do More damage than you Okay, maybe not But if I get away With blood on my hands And lips and stinger Who’ll be laughing then? And not in hiding Suffering ceases to be suffering when it finds meaningViktor Frankl I watch you in the dark Yours cannot see me Your frame, delicious in most parts Marked with palms that slap To kill Kin squished Blood spilled Yours, granted But if I get away It’s your blood on my hands
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