Let Death find me

Sometimes when I've got nothing better to do,
I send a wish that Death will catch me
when I can't see it coming.
Let it float between the gentle curtains of my bedroom
as I lay with my lover,
my mind adrift within Picasso dreams
that never fit into the quietness and stability of my real life.
As these eyes are clasped shut
to not watch as the cold hand reaches between us,
that gentle caress to steal my next breath away.
To a place and time where my memories and my past
will mean nothing.
Where my hopes and dreams can never grow into possibilites.
All I hope is to never look up and see that shrouded one smiling down,
with its ruthless, unfeeling eyes and frozen hand held out.
For then I will, for a second,
come to regret all the things I never did and then won't be able to.

This poem is also featured at Bay Front Press