Like sugar and yeast,
fermented and sweet,
kisses of hers
intoxicate me.
Without them
is a toxic way to be.
Quarantined my mental state
you talk sick to me,
speaking ills
of falling out of love--
now it's "earborne".
i put on a mask to cover up
the pain,
but it does not protect me from catching true love's bane.
i try to conjure a vaccine quick,
but i'd need live virus to work with.
Out of love does not live here--
she was asymptomatic, I was unaware......