Fever

Trees give me solace for my mind is wild
In the day, I burn, at night, I burn
No rest finds me, no peace falls on my shoulders
My insides churn like
The machinations of a great
Heaving machine, at every thought
Of him
 
It’s not in the words we share
But the spaces in between
All those things unseen
Unspoken, but present with us
Like silent members of
A benevolent jury, watching
Waiting
 
Only with him am I at ease
Until, in a flash I look and see
Not as me but some other, greater being
And then in me, the floor drops out
And I am left
Trembling in my own skin
Alone
 
I cannot see
What heaves within him
If the same seas toss and pitch
His spirit as mine
If I alone am infected or
If we suffer in parallel
Fevered
 
My throat is dry, I cannot swallow
As though my body cannot follow
Instinct any longer
No longer
As I numb and writhe
Inside myself, sick with this sickness
No one can cure
 //


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