It Began with Blood

that spilt filthy whiteness

freezing into herbal froth

I saw green becoming a sin

germinal as bice, to where

we met: at the center

of the Universe, pressed

onto molten abstractness

You were prematurely

magmatic; your reservoir

a pool of knowledge —

a shield resisting artifice

My mosquito and I, we

were made of contrivance

Our aphotic entreaty

hacking code-generated

monogamy; our wiles

splintered in calligraphy

We defiled senses —

one of which was yours

Soon, you were dying,

cursory with sunlight

The facile quantity in

you reeking californite

It ended with sweetness

in my mouth, rottener

than the mistiest dark

Tuesday, April 24, 2012, 2:23 – 3:21 AM

Poetry prompt day 23: morning.
Mosquito by Amirali