Her love lies listless in the bosom of a bedroom
Between dust and dirtied sheets
Emptied drawers and lonely, closeted spaces 
Unwashed windows and the widow woman’s tears 
Water she now knows the taste of

Behind wandering walls, beneath unfamiliar floors
Her desire slips silently unseen 
Around toes, over hands, through words
Balancing uneasy on the tip of anxious lips
To be swallowed whole and undigested

In the middle of the night, it moves
Voiceless amongst forgotten names and unwanted numbers 
Creeping –
       Creaking under the weight of foreign feet 
As it is carried across candlelit cityscapes, 
Scraping concrete against open mouths

Clothes slip too easily from her borrowed body
His absent sweat stinging memories
As her rhythm clings to the sound of moans
Hidden in graves dug belly-deep
She sleeps to dream its freedom.