i carried you in my blood like a disease. you swept through
vessel and seeped into capillary, and i was almost, almost
unaware, as i lifted my hand to be brushed by your mouth
and i felt your teeth in my bone, felt you rasp at my skin
with a mouth shaped like infinity, and for you, the dogwoods
flowered and the rabid raccoons did drunken boxing, and
their infected mouths spit rubber and roses, and my heart
becomes a seething mass of muscle and of sickness,
sickness for the trees and sickness for your sweet bloody
mouth, and who can quarantine this pathogen called love.


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