Are You Sleeping?

I want to invade your thoughts
as you have invaded mine;
I want to fill you full of me
until i am you and you are me.

I want to pervade your vision,
your hearing tuned to my voice:
commandments to dance
commandments to expose
commandments to slip into
a white funeral shroud
for a future of broken hearts.

I want your heart dead,
a stone memorial to our exile
that should haunt tourists’
fat and sweaty dreams of you.

I want you to feel
the suffocation
from being walled in
by Mediterranean sunrises
and time until (that god damned plague of time!).

It is never enough,
the lust frothing at the top,
to bridge time and space;
desire is the sincerest form of torture,
and I would have you suffer.