a fever is about to seize me,
the blood beating under your skin
is warming my limbs -
i feel as though the air is crawling on me.
stop.
your playing eyes should be left to wander
there is nothing more to do
but to give in to the tide,
the swell that pulls you under
the fog swirls above us
and the cold, damp blanket
is no match for you.
it is no mystery, what lies before us.
time will move languidly.
when you come around,
it will stop.













