Fever

Fever broke yesterday
like an eggshell.
 
A crack, at first
Then a slow diffusion
into every corner
of my body's cage.
 
On my cheeks,
the color of cherries -
Webs have formed,
of torn arteries.  
 
My blood,
feels atmospheric
oxygenic,
like a hot summer evening.   
 
I feel a collusion of fists, as if;
My mind is clasped.
 
My head, an album of
quick percussions -
Warm blood
knocking on my temple. 
 
Nausea replaced
my morning's calling.
 
Smiles have dissolved
under the horizon of lips.
 
My mind is a scatter, of
thoughts as light as wood chips.
Fluffy and volatile.
 
I hold my head
in my palms,
as Pain twiddles my brain,
in orbit, like
planets we made of onion rings.
 
A lemon drink
slithers down my throat.
 
The aroma of ginger tea
tickles my skull.
 
I sit in the Palumbo garden
on 13th street,
and watch butterflies play in the sun,
purple shamrocks wilt in thirst,
zinnias stretch out their dainty arms.

Weakness
Auctions me out.

Shortly, I walk home to sleep.