To Be the Tick That

smelled you out, sensed your heat,
clung to you those long 36 hours,
feeding off your life, drinking you in.

I wonder if my love would spread
like a red rash, stretching from
the nape of your neck to the

inside of your thigh, inside
your defenses? Would my
advances stiffen your neck?

Or would your heart beat
faster? Would your memory
fade, forgetting a time before

I buried my face into your offering,
before I was swollen with the thought
of you? Bring red foxes, opossums,

Guineafowl. Your measures won’t
shake me. Your DDT won’t scare me
off. Nothing more loyal than a parasite.

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*Barlow Adams is a disciple of love and a student of heartbreak. He believe all stories are about love if one digs deep enough. His stories and poems have been published in many nice online and print journals, and some that are a little sketchy. Follow him on Twitter @BarlowAdams.
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