Therapy.

And when I'm sick today,
They are not letting me out,
On a sympathetic road,
Or just by the window.
To catch in the air,
A grain touched by you,
Or just steal a sniff,

Of your feel in the air.
The musk suspended
after you pass by.
And after three days they wonder,
"Why aren't the medicines working ?"
How could these- "the manmade" work
Without me drenching,
In your infectious elixir ?
Or derive from you,
The oxygen to heal me.
You are essential in ways,
Mysterious to the science of allopathy.
You my darlings are above understanding
Logics and reasonings.
You are to be felt,
And I'm being refrained.
Three days and counting.