Better Monsters

there are colder nights than others,
that unwrap you before the world
leaving you naked and isolated,
unashamed because of emptiness
and the eyeless people around you;

what a wonder that we’d trade unshackled shivering
for warm plague blankets of poisoned false pretense

but we’d rather die in feverish arms
pressing hot sickness against sickness
than in the vacuum of a sterile eternity
disease free and free of dis-ease
as we are better monsters than that…