the wait

The Waiting

 

He had chosen to enter

With his tainted family jewels.

Slipping his toxicity into their space

Taking advantage of the ignorance.

Transmitting his compromising posibilities

Into what flowed through them.

Every dreamless night was marred

With lovers who’d wither and die.

At dusk, yawning, stretching and rolling

Back to the fearsome loneliness of knowing,

In his pained vengeance no holds are barred

Not even those to end another life.

Often he sighed, too weak to stand

The wasting away, alone in his pain.

Wept constantly for each loves lost life,

Blinded by grief, regret and bereaved.

Facing the feared deficiency syndrome

As his immunity at its lowest, dwindled.

Everyday he waited at deaths door

To be taken to the great beyond.

Feeling how life’s luster’s gone

And the worst of it was the waiting,

Without relief from guilt in his transition

Having purposely spread his infection.

 

Ria – circa 2007

(Note: This poem was written in memory of my friend, who’s husband died as a result of AIDS before she did.)

Know your status, and manage it responsibly. Blessed Love

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