Mosquito Lover

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“Meeting you,” she said, “was like falling into a bed of nettles – it hurt.”



“Why must you always be so trite?”  he said. “Your metaphors are shite, I hope that hurt.”



“I don’t even know if I love you anymore, you only make me sore now, and sometimes I think my life would be easier if I were dead. Won’t you kick me in the head?” she said.



“Baby you’re my Mosquito lover.

You suck my blood.

Do you know how many times I’ve tried to swat you?”




“I believe that up until now everything you’ve ever told me has been a lie. You’re a fraud!” she cried.



“Why this sudden fondness for truth?” he asked. “We both know this wouldn’t have lasted an hour if we’d been straight – it was always based on hate. You weren’t what you wanted to be, and I could see through you. And you hated me for seeing and I hated you for being such a liar!”




“Baby you’re my Mosquito lover.

You suck my blood.

Do you know how many times I’ve tried to swat you?”



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“Baby you’re my Mosquito lover.

You suck my blood.

Do you know how many times I’ve tried to swat you?”



Copyright TKFE/TFC @1994