it will not leave.
it burrows and burrows
inside of
this dilapidated haunt,
nestling so comfortably
in the depths of my
ventricles and atriums,
reinventing itself in such
clever disguises
as it travels about the bloodstream,
finding new habitats
which it likes to call
home.
how quietly it waits.
how patiently it breathes,
methodically outstretching a hand
or some disfigured protuberance,
scarcely making contact
with its surroundings,
sending my synapses into
a frenzy.
my god,
how your very skin enraptures me
with its heady bouquet.
one taste awakens this
dark, ugly thing
from its false hibernation
as i come to
understand
that with all of my strength
and all of my might,
i must conquer this
daemon,
while still trying to comprehend
and trying to believe in
how you have
chosen
to stay.
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