The D Spot

The slip of elusive words
the stumble over what should be even ground.
I feel myself tilt with the
question unasked
and my words hit the floor
like the thud of cement.
An echo of silence that
chases me through my dream-corridors
and leaves me ultimately stranded.
Alone,
with nothing to wrap around my freezing shoulders
but the threadbare memory of touch
and a whisper of tears.