i found a little mosquito
upon my palm
and in complacence
it found refuge
suckling on my skin
getting blood-filled drink
within my view

i let it stay
much to my dismay but-
there's nowhere i've got to be
and at least here
i'm of some use
as i stare at him
getting his fill

i now was afraid
the longer it stayed
of the plagues that it carries
or even just the bite
& itch that follows

i then began to wonder
as time dauntingly drudged
what if he was killed
as a sanguine vessel-
will it then splatter
on the murderer's palm
that suddenly becomes
painted by mine
or
is he just a little mosquito
getting his fill
?