Her Cameo
Idling away the incessant hours
here at night can often feel like
Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window;
minus the key grips and gaffers.
We make do these days with
slimline hand devices and other
neuro diversions—time crawls on
as light hues change unnoticed.
It’s a slow pan with tight closeup
shot before cutting away to the
seduction scene—in privé à présent.
She scatters tart crimson petals
over my eyes with cyber ink, as
I paint hieroglyphics on her
pale avatar—immersed in reply.
©️Orion Foote, 2022
Visions of Orion Poetry 