http://xuflspp6gvk3uhzkk2oyzgdodftg7wez45w7fwewbgpgua57722ihlyd.onion/poems/our-fever.html
." / BACK it started as a tremor - small, nameless, unspoken like the way light shakes on water when the wind is too tired to hold it still. at first, I called it nothing. nothing but a passing shadow, but a crack in the glass that does not yet reach the edges. but then you (I love you, you know I do) started pressing your palm to his, like a man checking for fever, like a child lost in some dim hallway reaching for a hand that is not mine.