Sad Labels:
retrospect
I was nursing the lion. I was telling myself it didn't matter. Healing was a symptom of the disease. In tepid sheets. The calm dominion of fetid lives. Sour diplomats mediating the perfect lisp of one night stands.
I was sure. As sure as I'd ever been.
Of the antidote. The cure. How near it rested to the source. The things that makes us bigger are oftten the same things that tend to make us small. The people we want to save us usually just show how lost we are.
With so many ways to die. How to choose?
With so much I still don't know about you. Where to begin?
Drawn into this virus some call love. Held by this cancer that once was us.
It's stronger than I am.