The mosquitoes are chewing us up
like we're the special of the day
if you like tiny legs and some crunch.
I've been slicked in some sort of
stench that seems to mean I am
fresh meat to wee beasts.
What tiny monsters I cradle and
prick touchy stems that stretch
into confusion, horror, sleep.
If I had an exoskeleton I would
rent it out to slugs and soft
caterpillars, I'd watch them curl.
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