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Tone: Pyrexia

In the midst of a warm embrace
We lost track of time, on a race;
Tall shadows grew to separate gloves
But we glued hands, against the cloves.

Resting our heads on the pillow
The breeze blew through open windows
Caressing from our heads to toes
We transcended to flesh and bones.

Beneath the thick all white bedsheets
Comfort was all we felt in shifts
We were the victims of our slime
Sticky touches, irony of dime.

But before we knew it was dawn
Aurora spread over the lawn
Ten more minutes was our demand
Sluggishly rolling on the bed.

Feeling to stop hold was not fine
Inevitably, rise and shine
For daily bread, we had to go
But as we did, the fever rose.

©2018 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Onyekachukwu

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