Chapter 93
HIV Poems R.I.P., My Love Tory Dent - 1958-2005       Let us be apart then like the panoptical chambers in IC patient X and patient Y, our names magic markered hurriedly on cardboard and taped pell-mell to the sliding glass doors, "Mary", "Donald", "Tory"; an indication that our presence there would prove beyond temporary, like snow flurry. Our health might be regained if aggressive medical action were taken, or despite these best efforts, lost like missing children in the brambles of poor fortune. The suffering of another's I can only envision through the mimesis of my own, the alarming monitor next door in lieu of a heartbeat signifying cardiac arrest, prompts a scurry of interns and nurses, their urgent footsteps to which I listen, inert and prostrate, as if subject to th
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