#2,405 No Escort

A hushed oscillation will
fail to disturb this place –
a muted whisperer is all
there is in my cold home
of bare walls – I decorate
without colour’s voices –
This is where my dream-
land reaches into me [as
defragging scenes] – last
night I fucked my casual
lover with scripted word-
play – that aulder game –
my soft kiss of imagined
scenes to wetten her lips
& soothe our contact – A
teller of tall tales to prise
apart her dried-out lusts
& still I sleep unescorted