Shivers

I woke up at Midnight
what some call
the witching hour
chilled to the bone
feet like cubes
chest like fog
teeth chattering
like some cartoon
skeleton
torso thrumming
to some silent
freezing rhythm
I staggered to the head
and evacuated
mostly liquid
painfully
only to crawl
back to bed
and bundle up
to shake and shiver
beep and bop
twist and tick
under the covers
in hopes of warmth
that seemed impossible
when faced with cold
unflinching, bone-deep
and insurmountable
after tortuous hours
where time slugged by
and I got a glimpse
of real hell
I drift off to sleep
only to awaken
blissfully hot
the cold broken
the virus caught