A Nocturnal Battle

The mosquitoes have

entered the air

above my bed.

Perhaps blood

is their desire,

or maybe their sword

mouths will make mission

of the soft sheath

my skin provides

as I lie half

asleep, aware

only by the approaching

warning their wings

make.

The sudden intra-

venous attack escapes

the self-inflicted

slap as another

victorious warrior

makes

off, satisfied, full

of my life force.