“You give me fever when you kiss me. Fever when you hold me tight.” –Peggy Lee
You give me
Your memory kisses the lips
that turn white,
that have no compassion,
that seals my suffering fate.
You take the color from my face,
make my temperature rise.
You turn the joy of life
into a sickness,
into a hacking cough,
a pauper’s demise.
From your lethal beauty,
to the X-rays of your eyes,
you steal my breath,
my silver and gold,
and my healthy state of mind.
First published in Literary Yard.
What happens when you’ve got it bad . . .
Peggy Lee made it sound better.
True, not as graphic. 😉
Pretty powerful description here! It certainly conveys a lot of emotion… It would be hard to read this and not feel the immediate punch in your gut. Very well written!
Not many people write odes to disease, cool! Very effective poem.
I’ve had pneumonia, and am in no hurry to do it again.
That’s true, Robert. I guess you have to appreciate everything. 🙂🙂
Yes, fever is not always a good thing.
Yes, especially the pneumonic variety. 🙏🏻
Reblogged this on From 1 Blogger 2 Another.
Wonderfully written, more ink to your pen.
Thank you, Ajibola.
Please the pleasure is mine, Mark 🙂
Smartly written. Loved the language
Thank you. Much appreciated.
My pleasure 😊