Dengue Fever


In Aedes mosquitoes,
That transcend their larvae,
Is a virus that rests deadly in pathology. 
Just an injection that traverses skin,
And saliva that is injected through a tiny aperture,
And a man, whose immunity
Becomes a scapegoat, the antibodies that are supposed
To save, scheme again him, as he lacerates pints of blood.
The red splatter and systemic shock
That kills the system. One pint sized injection,
An inland ocean bursting out,
The little midgets, immune cells are,
And the fortress they fail to fortify.
The cataclysm of a man, to a little mosquito,
How little it takes, for a pint-sized virus,
To go viral inside macrophages,
And the body hanging onto his immunity,
The soldiers in the front line and the back.
How to bring down the timber,
The smallest form of life, and the trophy of evolution,
A little blood meal, and the bloody irony,
How size and speciation, matter little
To a topsy-turvy world, when the smallest brings down
The most sophisticated, the decree of a virus,
Bleeding away, until there is nothing left.
Only a daring coup of biology,
A reminder how little saliva it takes to kill,
As is to kiss, or be kissed.

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