You feel the warmth rising,
the gentle caress of contagion brushing across your lips.
You try to deny it, to push it away.
But there is no denying
what you feel in your chest,
the ache at the back of your throat.
It has caught you,
and you will not get free.
You may struggle,
but ultimately, you will surrender.
Too late,
you wash your hands.
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