If I were called in to choose my own disease,
I'd choose a certain yearning of the blood
to tattoo itself into textures of trees
to lie down in and melt into the mud.
I'd choose the shapes of silence between the stars
tuck them into crooks of nerves and mainsprings
and if you peeled back the skin at ribs and shoulders
you'd find the pulsing starshine in their linings.
Sadly, much as I would prefer the above romantic diseases, I am ill with far more mundane stuff. Not been myself for days and days, and thoroughly fed-up of being a patient. Patience as you know is so not my forte. :) My respects once again to those who suffer chronic diseases with grace and fortitude, and that includes my mother. I don't know how they do it.
Hope to be back next week. Meanwhile, stay well and happy!