Blind slime abrasion.
Your unwelcome fruiting bodies
drool out of the walls
in symmetrical fractals
of black mass. It’s not
your invisible dry heaves of toxic dust
that moor me, it’s the beauty
in your hidden
danger. So what
if you’re a risk to children,
the elderly, the immunocompromised?
Nothing could stop
your innocent persistence.
I respect
that it takes scientists
suited up in PPE
to bear the airborne grief you carry
from the realization
you’re a contagion,
an agent
of degradation,
human by comparison.
Grief
that your will to live
is seen as an invasion.
You were here before
the universe,
you’ll outlast the insurance policy.
