If I could blow him
out of my nose in a sneeze. Be taken
as the leaves in a breeze. If I
could bury this sickness

of sobs and heaves. Cool the fever
with a wipe of my sleeve. Melt his memory
like Fontina cheese. Ice it down
a few degrees. This rash is tighter

than my jeans. It’s spreading like
acne in teens. Splitting my sides at
the seams. If I could unplug this noisy
machine making me wriggle in high-

pitching screams. Stop it from hanging
over me like the eaves. If only I could. But I can't!
So, it breeds.