Once bitten.

Once words are spoken /they hang in the air like Strange Fruit/ swinging back and forth/ back and forth/ awaiting death and decomposition/ As death occurs,/ mosquitos begin to feed upon the flesh/ indulging on the words that, before, whisped in the wind/ But are they truly gone?/ The mosquitos will disperse/ And do the task they were made for/ To spread the message/ And once the deed is done/ death by tongue consumes the mosquito/ and once bitten/ the new host has a choice/ hold thy tongue/ or spread the poison?