sick day (12/4/19)

Another day, another day,
soured by coffee, coughdrops, and
the wheeze, the whinge, the slimy lung,
the grit embedded in the throat,
the uneasy looks from strangers and
the finger-wagging of white coats.
Ah, surely, (a pause as liquid drips from my face),
this must be what love is like,
painlessly given,
slowly survived.

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