Confessions of a Desire

I sleep to you every night
Lying wide awake to the dingy walls and the nagging revolutions of the ceiling fan

And every time I look at you, eyes wide shut, the lips trembling, the tranquil in the silence of your wrinkles
I dream of a crimson canvas

A blunt brick
I smash it once, twice, thrice
As the blood trickles down that face
The desire just gets darker
I smash it again, again, again
The canvas I imagined of you
Turns a crimson blur


Tonight, I could sleep to the sienna skies and a setting sun...