spring bug

 When I am bitten by a spring bug

I find peace too serene for me to heal,

I feel miserable yet hopeful

I dread it's something in the air;

A rye with fermented yeast

When the spring bug borrows my blood,

I trade for its drowsiness 

I drown inside a cotton sheet too warm for my body. 

And when the heat catches me midsummer,

I whine to retrace it's path.

When the spring bug caresses my lengths,

I cower and bathe in the shade of a tree barely born,

Like a boy waiting for signs 

To remind him how past winters haunting,

shouldn't be brave enough to raise.

When the spring bug suckles my cheek, I let it have a bite of my fruit,

That will only rot in the summer afternoons

And spark a gloomy shade in fall evenings 

The spring bug attaches it's bosom to mine when i promise to free it tomorrow.