The fantasy of a mosquito becoming an anteater

No stories end happily

ever after;

they all go on

to an unexpected,

depraved,

wiggling

end

*

The stars are jealous of our light

that can wake the mosquitoes

who wake the spiders

with a buzz

and our flesh

forming a larger mass

of toes entwined and mouths entangled

so more mosquitoes migrate

to us like hung meat

though when the night calls

we are tight

and the spiders are too

waiting on the will of webs

until the stars fade into star

a single celled organism

that stretches its shine

to consume the spiders

and mosquitoes and us

while dew glazes our bodies

with cold worlds

where the webs and wings

can drown

if the spider doesn’t move

or if the mosquito does

trapped in the gray net

and the water atop

like a pearl necklace

that dissolves back into sand

but not before killing the oyster

or us

when enough blood is drained

from my head

to down below