Infected

Doctor’s cannot do a thing,

x-rays show nothing.

I am infected.

My eyes are foggy,

my lips parched,

my flesh sweats.

Fever takes hold of me,

thoughts ramble,

I cannot think clearly.

No one knows what time is left,

completely caught in this contagious dilemma;

yes, I am infected.

The moment you looked at me,

the second our lips touched,

I cannot rid myself of you.

I will one day die, a happy man.

From behind the eyes

Of dead pigs' skin

Their faces masked

For black mass

Ritualistic and bloodshot

Are all these eyes

Staring into the void

And out at the world

Between their lips; sealed shut

Sewn dead pig skin; droll and spit

Fomenting

Fermenting