You turn me into a mosquito
chipping and fluttering
at broken air
with a steady buzz
of anonymity
and a packing hope
of what is probably
inevitable,
the sting of rushing
blood and puckered skin
lifting in quick
pain that hits
us both
like a fog
over the highway.

In the moment of
the sting
and after,
my space vibrates
following
your path in what
looks like annoyance
and
what feels like
passion what drifts
like
small wings
beating against a breeze
that nobody hears
outside of
myself
outside of
your sight
waiting
on the flutter
of hopeless wings.

# # #

Jennifer L. Collins is a tattooed poet and animal lover who grew up in Virginia and has recently relocated to Cape Coral, FL. where she and her husband have five rescues – one neurotic hound, and four very spoiled cats. Her poetry has been published in various journals and nominated for a Pushcart by Puerto Del Sol. She spends her summers as an instructor of creative writing and drama at the Cardigan Mountain School. Her first chapbook, Oil Slick Dreams, is available for sale from Finishing Line Press. Read more here: http://twitter.com/wytwavedarling 

Photo:Manlake Gabriel