illness

i prefer to
see you when you
aren't sick. when
you aren't coughing,
or green, or covered
with little bumps
that make you itch.
i'd like to see
you without the limp,
or the lisp, or
the broken arm, or
sweating with a fever,
and a sore throat.
is that too much
to ask, i tell her.
and she answers. okay,
and how about you
show up without a
broken heart one
day. fair, that's
very fair, i tell
her. a little mean,
yes. but fair.