76.

If I’d known it was contagious
I might not have slept so close
breathing hot malaise all over you
as you tried to rest

And if I’d known you were susceptible
to a sickness I thought only mine
I might have left, enforced quarantine
but here we are – sicknesses entwined
and I will stay until you live again

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1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “76.

  1. Pingback: Cerșind ultima secundă – Begging for the last second | look around!

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