Adventures in Love

The Microbiology Of A State Called Loneliness

I cannot fathom being someone's wife,

I can barely function as a girlfriend.   

I will always be a disease.

I don't know how to dress for the occasion.

I still look infectious,

I still am a virus.

I am far too anxious,

And all too afraid to show it.

I want things to be perfect,

And oh how you know it. 

All too well, 

You know me 

And I know you.

That is how I know we will stay here,

Where we are.

The plague and the plagued,

The illness and the ill,

You and I forever,

In this stand still.  

Sickness is easier on the host than on the germ.

But I'll keep on infecting,

To watch them squirm.

Make them make copies of me,

Bursting plasma membranes,

Until I am all they see. 

But I have no desire to pour out death,

Just to stay for awhile,

Like a waste of breath.  

Microbes are solitary creatures, 

Tiny and alone, 

Endowed with horrid features

They give themselves

To be rejected

As medicine shelves 

Flood with remedies

And scientists discover cures 

In sea anemones.        

It isn't lost love, 

If you bid it adieu.

You can't be cured, 

If you are the ailment.