Reverence

mamas lips worshipped mosquitoes
sad for their reputation
carriers of death
but perfectly created

she admired the survival by
sip
she admired that pregnant
mamas only took to nurture
never kilt
she crooned at nectar nourished
not death fed

But nature is not kind to be
kind
mamas lips spilled reality that
nature’s kind is to be
she wanted to be

reincarnated as a mosquito
one whose gut laid void of lethality
poor mosquito

How do we balance?
she wobbled.
how do we pray
when we root
for the cheetah or deer
based on the lens presented?

life roots for itself
laid like sheafed tessellation of
structured breath
each breeze dependent on the breezes
before, dimensions
of mosquitos
on mamas lips