Fevers

There’s a fever screaming under my skin. I was chasing summertime at the birth of spring. Yes, I spent eternities in the quiet temple of trees: I thought that verdant void would fix me. In the morning fires, moths go towards the beacons of burning cities. These signals in the neon nights were calling me to desire. My extravagance departed with dawn. The wastefulness! of all that I wanted! In the end, shadows came even for great Carthage. I abandon my rage on these strange dark roads. A phoenix that dies in dust rises from dust. You were a warm body, but it wasn’t enough for me. I wake again to the day’s ephemeral tragedy. Desire, the siege of being, bear me to your exquisite kingdom. Like a frightless fledgling, I leave with the wild winds. Down at the shores, there’s a new fever screaming under my skin. Why hesitate when you live on the verge of extinction? This life is a beautiful ruin. The fevers! of desire! I survived! the fevers of desire!