The Parable of the Poison

Josh lives.  Josh walks.  Josh breathes.  Josh speaks. 

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, can the Tea Party continue to pressure the GOP to the right and not jeopardize its own relevance?”

Josh spoke thus:

A woman was taking her lover’s pulse.

“You’re dying,” the woman told her lover.

“I’ve been poisoned,” her lover told the woman.

“Tell me what you feel,” the woman said to her lover.

“I’m sweating,” the lover said.

“That could be love,” the woman said.

“My heart is racing,” the lover said.

“Again, that could be love,” the woman said.

“I’m short of breath,” the lover said.

“All of this could be love,” the woman said.

“It doesn’t feel like love,” the lover said.

“Tell me how you feel when I hold your hand,” the woman said.

“I sweat,” the lover said.

“That could be poison,” the woman said.

“My heart races,” the lover said.

“Again, that could be poison,” the woman said.

“My breath is short and sharp,” the lover said.

“All of this could be poison,” the woman said.

“It feels like poison,” the lover said.

“As does love,” the woman said.

“As does love,” the lover said.

“You’ve been poisoned,” the woman said.
“Because I’m sweating?” the lover asked.

“And because your heart is racing,” the woman said.

“Because I’m short of breath?” the lover asked.

“Because you’ve been poisoned,” the woman said.

“You’re a doctor,” the lover said, “Give me something.”

“I’m your lover,” the woman said, “I have nothing left to give.”

“Some antidote?” the lover suggested.

“There is no antidote for love,” the woman said.

“Speaking as a lover,” the lover said, “But speaking as a doctor, what can you give me?”

“I can give you dreams,” the woman said.

“I’d rather have the antidote,” the lover said.

“Dreams are the antidote,” the woman said.

“To poison?” the lover asked.

“To this poison,” the woman said.

“The poison that is love?” the lover asked.

“The poison that love,” the woman said.

“As love is killing you?” the lover asked.

“As the poison is killing me,” the woman said.

“And dreams are the cure?” the lover asked.

“The antidote is the cure,” the woman replied.