Pulse (Bug Poem)

you crawled into my bed that night

like some sort of giant insect

and i found myself spellbound

at the sight of you,

beautiful and grotesque and all the rest of that bug stuff

bluffing your way into my mouth

behind my teeth, reaching for my scars-

that night we got kicked out of two bars

and laughed our way home

that night you leaned over

and threw up into your hair

and i held you there, thinking-

i would offer you my.....pulse

if i thought it would be useful

i would give you my breath,

except,

the problem with death

is that we have some hundred years

and then they can build buildings on our only bones

100 years, and then your grave is not your own

and we lie in out beds, and our graves

unable to save ourselves

from the quaint tragedies we invent- and undo,

from the stupid circumstances we slalom through

and i realized that night that the hall light,

which seemed so bright when you turned it on,

is nothing-

compared to the dawn

which is nothing-

compared to the light

which seeps from you while you're sleeping,

cocooned in my room-

beautiful and grotesque,

resting

that night we got kicked out of two bars

and laughed our way home

i thought-

i would offer you my pulse,

i would give you my breath

i would offer you my pulse,

i would give you my breath