Mercy Mercy Mercy

She was bitten

Mercy Mercy Mercy

She was loved.

I saw the scar on her right shin

It was pink

And as ugly as the walls themselves.

She tells me I can touch it

And I refuse

But she guides my fingers towards the flesh

And I feel the tendons stiffen.

"How long?"

I ask.

"Four months.

They think

I have

The cure."