Poem: "Pillow Talk" at "Live Nude Poems"

In 2025, just as we were about to enter the year of the snake, I decided to reach out to a few online publications that had previously accepted my work and to see if they liked what I was writing right now. But in the case of Live Nude Poems (which had published my poems in 2020, 2021, and 2022), the scenario was a little different. It was to see whether a villanelle I'd sent them in late 2023 was still of interest to them over a year later. Fortunately, it was. But what a strange poem this turns out to be, a villanelle written during a bout of COVID or perhaps the flu. Whatever the sickness, there's definitely some feverish logic at work in the verse below.

Pillow Talk

My boyfriend hands me some necessary med.

I think I’m quite sick. I’ve got a bad flu

that’s warping my thinking, that fucks w/ my head,

a sickness that makes me wish, I were dead.

An illness can plant such an idea inside you.

My boyfriend hands me some necessary med:

a plain pink pill; a capsule half yellow, half-red;

and one other one, two distinct shades of blue.

“That’s warping my thinking. That fucks with my head,”

I tell him. I’m pretty sure that’s what I said.

He holds out the glass. I know what to do.

My boyfriend hands me some necessary med

then patiently sits on the side of my bed

as I pop the four pills then drink up. My temp is 102.

That’s warping my thinking, that fucks w/ my head.

There’s a stain on the pillowcase where I’ve bled

‘though I’m less sure what’s caused this bad bruise.

My boyfriend hands me some necessary med

that’s warping my thinking. It fucks w/ my head.

This poem was originally published in Live Nude Poems on February 3, 2025. The accompanying artwork comes courtesy of socialneuron at Pixabay.