Tuesday, 7 August 2012

Time For A Poem


Black Mosquito Bites My Mind

A mosquito came looking for
where my blood flows
and it finally found the door
where even trees would grow

Where rivers of my wine
would shine
like the sun
so deep red before the night
until the darkness come'

Oh, mosquito, your gloomy bite
I'd like to carve it to feel fine

Alex Cousteau, July 2012

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