His cool approaches, light and tickle-floppy
were like a room full of crisp wet lettuce when I didn't want anything to eat
so I took my clothes off and rolled around in it instead- sweating onions.
Laying face up, I was blowing at the big veiny leaves I'd laid over my eyes
which I found could absorb fever!
... and it waved away all the thoughts that were not of him.
I saw things through shady emerald eyes as winds came to curl at my sides.
I started thinking about cheese sandwiches.
I wanted to be one.
Then I got up and wrote a poem about all the things I needed squeezed from my filthy pores.
I missed my fevers.
I was well on my way to dying and here comes this truck load of medicinal dew.
Instead, I lived
like a striped, white caterpillar wet with promises of chewy greens to bite and fuzzy wings by night.
Cocooned in a room spun of resolving and evolving life.