She’s tired and clammy and hot, and her head pulses and aches,

But she gets up anyway, to go and answer the door,

And everything spins, and tilts, and whirls,
And it is a blurry mess of revolving objects,
Where she can’t see anything,

But she must act normal,

And so she stands straight,
Smiles,
And lets the words he speaks reverberate around her brain,

As her vision slowly settles back in,

Only to go away again,
When she steps down to take the package back in,

And her head throbs,
And she pushes her glasses back up her nose,
As she puts the package down,
In hopes that it will help,
And like she already knows it wouldn’t - it doesn’t,

But when she pivots so she faces the delivery man once more,

Her face is calm, and cool, and the same,

And only when she has bowed her thanks,
And he has bowed his,
And she has closed the door after him --

Does she sink against the wall,
Waiting for the dizziness to pass,

And hoping that upon it’s return, it will be no worse,

Than it already is.