Cure – A Poem

In response to Sandeep Parmar’s poem XLIV in her poetry collection Eidolon

[THOMAS] You know why I’m here.

– Do I?

[THOMAS] You’re going to cure me, aren’t you? That’s what my dad told me.

– Cure you? My dear, there is no cure.

[THOMAS] But that’s why my parents chose you. Because you do this sorta thing?

– No, no, no. I don’t cure people. I just make it easier.

[THOMAS] So I’ll never get better?

– My dear, you were never unwell.

[…]

– What’s he like?

[THOMAS] Who?

– Who you’re thinking about. Does he know you feel like this?

[THOMAS] No, and he never will. It’s not right. Or ethical.

– Why because he’s a boy?

[THOMAS] Cause we’re both boys.

– Right. And you love him do you?

[THOMAS] I dunno. Not love, not that.

– Then lust?

[THOMAS] Isn’t that just the same?

– Oh no, my dear. Definitely not.

[…]

– To feel lust is to want him: emotionally, mentally, physically. But to love him is a whole other thing.

[…]

– To love him is to need him.

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