you crawled into my bed that night   like some sort of giant insect   and i found myself spellbound   at the sight of you there   cocooned in my room,   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    and i thought   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 you have   some hundred years and then they can   build building on your only bones   100 years and then your grave is not your own   we lie in out beds, and our graves   unable to save ourselves from   the quaint tragedies we invent   and then undo from the stupid circumstances   we slalomed 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 me 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   and i thought   i would offer you my pulse   i would give you my breath   i would offer you my pulse