HIV
My blood has become poison
Running through me.
In death’s sterile ash
I flip coins to keep
From going mad.
Life and Death
on the face of coin.
And everything is
forgetting me.
The hour is forgetting me.
Even the clock will forget.
The twisting form of these sheets where I laid
Just last night,
Is like a fading fingerprint pressed upon glass,
As the bed forgets me.
As my own body
forgets me.
In death’s sterile ash
I am alone in a room
As I am
alone in my body.
