Self Haiku #5

Poor, beautiful legs!

Mosquito’s three square meals.

Canuck blood too sweet.

I am seriously starting to wonder if my blood is laced with the mosquito version of crack cocaine. I have been bitten an unseemly number of times.

It takes me back to my time in South Korea. One year, I tried to hike up Hallasan with my brother. (We failed, because I was then slow and out of shape, thus missing the summit cutoff time at the last checkpoint by half an hour.) I counted the number of mosquito bites on my legs: 30-32, if I recall correctly. My brother? Two or three.

Jerk.

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