Indefinite Silence

She fears she will be hurt.
She wants to be hurt, wants to fear.

The warnings come when she is silent
because silence is a form nakedness
that does not seduce.

She is as bare
as the walls she leaves empty
awaiting something intimate
she can hang.

In the steady nighttime light
She fidgets

“Tell me what to do.”

And I, her lover, there to master,
am overcome with shades
of white
And doing what I can for her
with my indefinite silence.