We covered ourselves with curtains
while your hand rested upon my back.
You shivered beside me, too
unwell to notice the difference
between her and me.
You covered me like a turtle clings to
sun-warmed boulders, and being a stone,
I remained anchored to the riverbed.
What will she do to me when
she draws back the fever curtains
and finds her turtle clinging
to a river boulder?