Vacancy

Petulia’s word: vacant

Bayard’s question: Have you ever been pork sworded?

Down the sweaty hotel walls—your face—
Beads of perspiration trace.
I can see in the mirror—your eyes—
My heaving thighs.
I moan—disguise.

You fuck me like you’re bored—a chore.
Do you even want me anymore?
We are both politely faking—vacant.
Too lazy to leave.
You’re done—reprieve.