Even if the meds work,
the hives pop up
like garden vegetables,
the roots stretching and starving
for water,

but at least you know
now there is life
under all that scratching.

The red rash reminds you
you’re made up of animal shapes
and foods you can’t name,
the artwork of disease.

As you breathe, the shapes
change and you feel the rise
and fall of a possible flare,
an almost always feeling
of being on the edge.

And if you make it through the day
without feeling the changing season
grow inside you,
then something is working
in those four little pills.