When My Wife and I Have a Head Cold Together

We are sick,
my wife and I–
not in the mental sense:
We each have a cold,
possibly the flu;
virally immense.
Our noses swell
our lungs are clogged;
coughs instead of talks–
our eyes are red
our heads are hot:
a familiar sort of pox.
I bring her tea,
and fetch her meal,
coughing on the dish;
I bring her pills,
and ice cream too,
fulfill her febrile wish.
Both of us sneeze,
both of us gasp,
we lay abed and groan;
it’s just a cold,
a virus that
we have only on a loan.
She says, “It’s you,
who’ve brought it here;
you’ve given me the flu.
I point at you,
shout in your ears,
You’ve done this, John–

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