Vertigo.

He said I’m thinking late. A chill out chat or film.


She moves to find, her body is not inseparable.
Surprised? There was a long way to go.
And at least she’s made it, so far.
Her thinking stills to picture something else: a late night or just later.


No one can watch without lying.
He’ll believe I own only one.
He wants to find it a bit beyond the bed’s edge.
He will wait for me to take him up.


Spiral stairs are designed for someone of distinguishable purpose.
They say you are lucky. But I would never offend you like that.
So go on, show me how it looks.
Show me what it is to have my muse wrapping her body around.


He typed Thinking of you. He sent. And he didn’t touch her on any level.
Should it have been late enough, the two may have gone to bed; planning and not planning to watch a film.