Mosquitos

The roasting fragrance of blood and
the fresh flesh of the lady mosquitos
through the electrocuted grid
The attraction and the seduction
The high volatage between
The victim and the culprit
Oh, the pathetic fools
Fluttering fluttering
to the burning cold
Whining whining
from dusk till dawn
The proboscis craves
for an endless thirst
Grilled and roasted
I see me on them.
The sanctified desire.
The shame.
The flame slowly lightened
and vilified by your lame.

Charu
13.03.2018
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