Positve Test

Peculiar words crawling over the pages of my journal Leafs of beige bound by counterfeit leather Small enough to rest within my palm Masks, quarantine, isolation, Covid, Alone Lyrics scribbled upon blue lines traversing Three hundred and more pages, one page for each day Turning back the ink-smudged pages A quest for what I have forgotten Notions pilfered by a thief in the night Named Rum To page twenty-six I turn The day you left wearing your blue mask Stained by tears of unknown fright “It is just the sniffles” I proffer From behind my unmasked face You wanted to believe me More than the three-letter castle of mandarins More than the bespectacled practitioner With a silly name and fat wallet More than the curve refusing to flatten You wanted to believe You didn’t believe Donning your blue mask Saddled by purse overflowing With vessels of purity You left me Page thirty-one You called to talk to me “It is just the sniffles” I vow “Come home, to me” I am tired of being alone “I cannot” you cried Poised on the line between manic and truth Page sixty-seven A text-no voice Punctuated with a red heart emoji “Come home” I reply (no emoji) “I cannot” You lie Page ninety-nine Just a X Scrawled in burgundy stain I may have been drunk Ask Rum, he never lies Pages one-hundred and beyond Echoed words defining a new norm No one really likes You do not call me anymore (Or text) Blank pages Suddenly something new Page three-hundred and eighteen A fresh word Vaccine Page three hundred and nineteen You toss a text, smiling Vaccine Vaccine! Wear your mask and run! Followed by a flexing bicep emoji “For the sniffles?” I reply You don’t Page…today New words— Positive Test For you And your mask And your purity in a bottle And your Vaccine Vaccine And your leaving Me Sniffle, sniffle