Anaphylaxis
My skin rises to my defense.
Battle-tuned,
My ears close and turn inward.
Heat rolls off my body in waves.
Was this poem born of wasp stings?
Or was this reaction
A poem's demand for life?
And Yet
i am forty one and married
you are a year older
a gap that seemed significant
when we were young
you too are married
both happily so, i might add
and yet
some mornings i awaken
having dreamed of you
