NaPoWriMo Day 13 Poem 10 Ode To The Flu

I caught you going round
the office like a tea round, 

you whispered into my body
and said you want to breed 
your bugs with me.

We last spoke in February,

when you stirred your mucus frappe

into my chest.

This is how you saved me

from the torture chambers

of classrooms and jobs behind desks. 

You gave refuge,
reminding me how to be warm
and stay in while you arrived

in my tissues with your yellow 

after-party phlegm, swelling
my glands, until I became
your waling germ,

bubbling in your bacteria.

Tell the doctors that a temperature
is how I burn for what I want,
and I ache for you tonight.

This is how close love is 

    to a bed-ridden sickness.