FEVER
My love is a fever and burns from the inferno.
It rages uncontrollably from its source deep inside.
My fever leaves me tired and wet.
But are those from tears or are they from sweat?
My body ripples, shakes and roars.
Is it because my love is such a bore?
This question comes to me
As I lay amongst what seem to be the dead.
But their only response is an implied shake of their head.
My love is like a balloon untied
Once in the hands of a lovely child.
Now I'm adrift in these open skies.
Is this because heat rises due to the cold I've left behind?
After my fever seems to subside, all that it leaves
Are the many covers that are tossed aside.
I feel the cold drift upon my body and then I want something nourishing to drink.
Who would ever think that such a kindness brought to me in love.
Is the very thing that feeds my fever.
Because I do not feel worthy.
My love is like another person who has such a different perspective.
It sees enemies in every small and unassuming place.
And its' goal appears to be only to… incite.
In order to catch some lies…. so it can say "I am right".
By Wanda Huff
FEVER
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