One Virus, One Cure

The absence arrived softly. Invisible like a virus it installs itself. The virus of absence needs the human body in solitude. In the crowd, on a Wednesday afternoon, I contracted the loneliness of a virus so tiny, so fragile to the entire world, so incomplete in itself. The virus desperately tells me that it needs a chance to breathe, one cell is enough, some from the lungs are good enough, for those who don't have any. I walk as if I were the same as I was seconds before, full of the world in every pore, but with a tiredness beyond normal - it was the absence weighing more than the crowd.
The first night as a hostess I couldn't sleep, a bloodsucking anguish stole my dreams. I felt every second of the invasion, sitting in the living room, I saw myself losing myself. The first dizziness made me stumble and slow down. Without leaving my seat, I took a deep breath in order to immerse myself more intensely in the present and I noticed that nothing else had a smell: the virus was breathing for me, the aroma of the world belonged to him, he got his animal moments and devoured me from the inside out. . The world devoid of its most primitive characteristic became nothing but soulless forms, without smell or taste, the world became indigestible.
The lust disappeared in the fever. I don't think I had ever gone without cumming a single day until these weeks of absence. The intimacy hidden beneath my skin cooked my essence to 38°. I don't feel anything anymore. My body is a cauldron of absences incinerating my identity.
It's already Sunday and the absent children are playing in the backyard, which is becoming increasingly quiet. It grows around every corner. With a mask on, no one recognizes themselves anymore. Without a mask, we make loneliness viral. It seems that on that Wednesday afternoon the entire world was infected and would never be the same again. Quietly, the phone goes silent, no one asks for anyone anymore, everyone in their house recognizes each other in pairs and gets sick alone. The virus continues to develop in the immense space that appears within each one, calling for vital instincts, it consumes our flesh like a drug and sentences its fleeting existence to our death.
There's sun on the bed, on the window, on the bedroom floor... there's sun sweeping through the empty spaces. Nothing destroys loneliness more strongly than sunny days. Your heat is more intense than my heat and this overlap is my healing, the immensity healed me of myself.
On the eighth day I still can't know what my smell is and that of the male of my species, I can't taste the seasonal fruit, nor keep my faces hidden behind the masks of the humans around me, but I can desire the light With all my strength, the light brings back the lust for life and joy is imminent. Absence took advantage of a virus that just wanted a little more humanity and violated us with loneliness. The cure will come from the poison of being who we are, a great human community, driven by the obsession of being one.