He comes through my balcony.

He comes through my balcony.

He comes white collared,
bold as an honest romantic,
unstinted as the copious rain God,

he does not go into hiding,
shiver and fever wrinkle me
as a shapeless bundle,

then I lay, expose my body
to him, drink his warmth as
a medicine,

the dazzling hands extend his
stethoscope, seemingly
Prescribes garlic and pepper,

Slowly goes back the same way,
taking back the accessories
of apothecary he brings in.