The Mosquito

The air furs against my ear.
The noise plunges deep,
jerking me like a
posthumous
spasm.

There is something unsettling
about the way you move.
Eratic yet driven.
You're a drunk
stumbling in
an effort
to rape
me.

Your light hollow touch...
Your thin cold penetration...
shakes me with force.

But the worst part
is the lingering
of violation
on my
skin.