There is a Sickness

there is a sickness in you
and it grows
you bear it,
a gentle gun
against splitting skin
even as it breaks bones
you pull it closer, caressing

you curl and cry
to nurse your dissatisfaction
you shake and spit
your careful claws
snake across my heaving heart

You were a coward, you say
an unbearable booming silence tears across the line
jumps satellite to satellite
until it finds my quiet apartment
my bare white room
my mouth opens to speak
I shiver and shake
tucked in the dark bed, a pillow empty beside me

I remember your slender hands
a hank of raven hair, shining like oil on water in a ripping wind
under a white winter sun
we huddled in the car, the throaty rumble
bringing soon the miracle of rushing warmth

I would kill you if I could
even now,
despite your goodness
and explosive smile

Version 2, for MP