i have been scarred, but so have you

i wish heartbreak bred antibodies

i wish love laboured like plague

that my immune system could fight it off

the next time around

but here i am, again, lovesick

aching in your arms,

dizzy with fever, sore from sex

knuckles dry and peeling from overwashing

prescribed kisses and unscented lotion

for an illness i fear terminal

but doctor, i did not know

the ironic face of remedy

until that april morning

when we ran into the library for shelter

and he confessed between the bookshelves

with snow still coating my eyelashes

a cure so hushed, so scandalous,

so alien in its tenderness:

iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

oh, the medicine of his mouth...

indeed, love works like plague!

like a vaccination,

to inject yourself with love

is to be healed

of its most merciless symptoms.