- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Love Sick
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Droplets in aerosols of couple speak,
public display of our affection
injects a virus of adore. I sweat
the fever while my immunity
surrenders, easily, most willingly.
Better than something common
one night or a seasonal fling,
simply avoided with missed calls
and voice mail. It is a commitment,
a mutant really, there is no real protection.
She is the pathogen that sickens
me with her kiss and touch
she overwhelms me, binding so intimately.
The diagnosis last longer than lust,
it's love and time makes it stronger.
- COMMENTS
RhymeFairyover 12 years agothe read and agree.. love is most def. a disease and you nailed it. :)
ghost_girlover 12 years agolove how you are so passionate about everything, even when describing love as a disease. It truly is a chemical reaction. As always,terrific work.
