what's wrong with you?

when you sit

in the doctor's waiting room, 

spread

out between

chairs,

mask on,

you wonder what everyone

is there

for.

it's a guessing game.

you look for

the limp, or a sling on

their arm,

maybe a bandage of some

sort hanging

on their leg.

what ails people?

what disease do they have

and might

give you

if they touch the doorknob

or sneeze.

are there any open wounds

in here?

you want to know, but

you don't ask.