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SicknessBound in her bed, red and raw
At the seams.
She said she'd felt me
In fever and dream;
Soothing whispers, kisses and blisters,
Avoiding her lips, dripping with sickness
We wept through the night;
Her for her sins
For her devil and kin
And me for her and her alone
For when the metallic screech
Of her breathing ceased
I would sigh a sigh of sincere relief,
Wrap her bones in salted sheets
And burn her.
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