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Infection
An affliction of the gravest proportion
Nestled in the striations of my flesh
Rendering sensations
Far worse than death
Malaise corrupts my limbs
I sink deeper into the covers
Seeking solace under layers of your scent
As the fever consumed my very bones.
I felt these piercing symptoms to the core
My insides violently twisted and turned
In a futile attempt, I cough out a curse
Behind closed eyelids, the vision burned
A magnificent disease, systemic infusion
Potent like wine's sweet essence
In a dangerous dose.
I say your name in begging moans
Softly, loudly, a repeated prayer
Closed-mouth screams against the pillows
As if saying it rids me
Of the virus you have caused.
