A painting of men,
tangled in a web of flesh.
Drifting into hell.

Drifting into sleep,
I put on your mix CD
to rinse my eyes clean.

I would pray for you.
Writing it gives me chills and
I might wash my hands.

I yearn for your arms,
and exhale daydreams of love.
Pretending to breathe.

I want you to breathe.
I choke you as we **** and
say something nasty.

You know, John Cage said,
"In the dark, all cats are black."
Maybe that's why we

close our eyes to kiss,
or sleep in each others arms;
We don't fear our night.