Should I ask him after dinner tonight
at the best Thai restaurant in the city
if he would like to walk back to my place
and fuck me, though I know my friend T is positive?
There is no cocktail of drugs for this knowledge, this fear
infecting my body, this fear of the infected body
no knowledge of virus or precaution
Flush the meds down the toilet. Passion is an appetite.
Who stops eating
jungle curry, steamed pomfret, beef sautéed with chili and lemongrass,
for fear of choking?
Plan for this poem-in-progress