the check up

feel my head
she says, i think
i have a fever. my
throat is scratchy
too. you put your
hand across her
mildly warm
brow and say no.
i think you're
just glad to see
me. open your
mouth, you tell
her with your
bedside manner,
let me take a
look at those
tonsils. i don't
have any, she
says, they were
taken out when
i was seven. hmm.
you say. well,
unzip your dress,
let's take a
closer look and
make sure there
are no rashes or
unusual bumps. if
you insists, she
says. you put your
ear against her
chest and say
your heart is
beating a little
fast, but otherwise
you seem to be just
fine. to be on
the safe side,
perhaps we
should stay in
tonight, open up
a bottle of wine.