THE MOSQUITO

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Stretched I lie, long and uncovered
On my bed and its not yet seven.
At a point somewhere down my body, it irritates,
I realize it’s a mosquito having its bite, and very desperate.
Like a small dark spot on a skin, fair and glowing
I guess, for him I am a vast expanse of sweet baking,
Though I am not sure if it’s a he or she,
But I can attest the fact that he knows human anatomy,
Too well, for its own good, for it knows where to gain,
A trait secret, may be he learnt it from his father, the great.
I let it continue for what it is I see,
It’s my blood that’s now running in his body,
Should I feel a familiar love, shared among blood relatives,
It deserves more than that, coz it’s also aware of how it tastes.
So I continue to look at the blob, from where I am, curious enough,
Finally done with the feat, may be it was just its breakfast,
I can hear it sing while it wings its way up the room,
May be it is thanking me for helping it in this doing
A coy smile is now on my lips, after all there is a Joy of Giving!!!