I’m committed to the grave,
Giving away bits and pieces
Every day, crinkling them like
Paper and ripping shreds into
Ribbons that shower down
Upon me

I sleep at high noon, peak
Hour prime time, dozing
Into dark absences, void
Of light and being without
Commitment, a kiss, a fling,
A long nap

I’m afraid to surrender myself,
To face defamation and be
Deflowered by cold fingers
And a choking fist, but I long
To be teased, to taste and try
The eternal without ever having
To say goodnight.