A breakthrough after all,
Done with the bloody tissues,
Damp sick-clothes go in the bin,
Strip down the very room:
Curtains, blankets, sheets, pillows.
A replace it with the winter collection:
Dark satin and soft cotton,
Like eyes closed in contemplation,
Illuminated in the secret places.
The fever breaks,
Only a week of my life stolen,
Winter welcomes me again.
Discarded Recollections 