The Malady

THE thoughts that cloud my addled brain cast

Blurred images upon the distorted lens of the

Mind's eye. Delicate layers of rationality and

Self-control are hurriedly peeled away like the

Loose skin of a succulent orange in the frantic

Hands of a starving beggar. What is this

Curious sickness of the heart that renders me

Incapable of harnessing my emotions or

Suppressing that inexplicable rush of electric

Passion that greets your presence? As I stand

Helpless in the face of some strange affliction,

I descend into the welcoming throes of an

Intense fever. A quickening of breath, a stark

Rapidity of pulse and a chest that echoes with

The deafening rhythm of galloping hooves.

But there is nothing amiss and such are the

Wonderfully hopeless symptoms that accompany

This illness of desire. Believe me when I say

That I am neither ailing and nor do I require

The quizzical gaze of the physician. I have simply

Been wounded by Love's arrow and am happily

Possessed.

© Troy Southgate