I feel my shins for breakage;
joints sway in dumb rhythm.
There is honey in all my recesses
the caverns of me no one plumbs;
sweetness here, you never taste.
inside my bones, the cells leached
of feeling, by you, my Black Death.
Yersinia, you come from the east
and ravage me, needle-tongue licking
flesh and fire, oh, consume me.
of love untouched, festering
in darkness. The plague moves on.