Night after night they stalked bare skin,
hovering their helicopter assault-craft
above our sheets and newly-wed bodies.

Don't you recall the din of their attacks,
the stench of the insect repellent sprays
that smothered the musk of our desire?

Roused at midnight, I slapped my neck
and rubbed the prick-holes of a vampire
that hung on the wall, bloated with blood.

I sat up, lit you with the torch and saw
a trio of grey-black oil-rigs, plundering
the calm oceanic energy of your breasts.

Fretting next day like a bowerbird
I bolted curtain-rods together and raised
a bright brass framework round the bed.

You stitched together metres of muslin
and draped the frame in pale white veils.
We fastened a palm cross to the bed-head

and passioned and slept, at last in peace.
Our foes still hovered, but in a wilderness
outside the ark of the covenant we'd made.

Mosquito

 

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