October 12, 2016
The Fever of My Own
There was a time, I think, when I’d sacrifice everything for raising my body temperature by so little as a single celsius degree, were it just to be raised by holding your naked skin.
But I don’t know anymore.
I have of course been repeatedly reminded of my blatant selfishness as if somehow I was unaware of it; I wasn’t, the selfishness is implied, inevitable.
What no one ever told me, what I never considered, is the possibility of there being no fever of my own to return. Not by choice, but rather by design.
Don’t look at me, I’m not your kind.