Fever 7-12

Words look back at me
from some dark backcloth,
and yet they’re clear, clearer
than any pain. I don’t seek them
out. I’m not there behind them
perfecting the lure.
The fever appears
and I no longer know what to do with it.
It’s my latest flame. I seem
to have reached the edge, a
point of self-annihilation, and I’m turning
into something new.
I’m young for death, that’ll be
why I die. Like someone
dying for love. I’m
suffocating, molten, and yet
there’s nothing here, nothing moving
around me.
They say it’s a quest
devised by God. I pray.
I pray. though I don’t believe in anything any more.
Any old prayer
spoken aloud.
All I did was ask for love.
Keep doing it ’til my heart
breaks. I feel no shame.
I proclaim it. No one’s shocked
by my plea, which must be quite
absurd – and quite plausible.
A body opens
like a cool flower.
I offer it to you again. I
didn’t learn anything from life.