(no subject)
SILENT FILM
a prompt for you to dream closer to me.
i.
Listen to this,
I'm channeling my daydreams into tangible forms of goodbyes,
the kind I would snicker at when I think no one else is looking,
but also the sort I want the most;
hear:
ii.
"I'm left dying on the sidewalk due to some mundane circumstance
and you hold my hand,
and say something I can no longer hear, half bitter,
half longing,
but mostly just smothering.
I'm
choking,
and whisper --
iii.
"Pardon?"
Followed by a long silence where only our fingertips exchange gestures
of vague understanding,
wishing they knew each other better, as they travel
from the foot of the ring finger
to the ticklish section along the wrist,
iv.
and the bus wheels screech to a halt at our stop
but our sleeping knees continue their siesta.
v.
Pillow talk
(and fights),
vi.
while getting drunk on each other's residue
tedium of
all-nighters,"
vii.
and quite hastily
the credits would roll, inconsequential and anticlimactically comical.
All I'm doing is waiting
for the cue of the aisle lights
to chorus,
"fair Night,
good Morning;
but this is how it ends."
__
Apparently it's National Poetry Day in the UK today. I'm not from the Little Continent, but it's a coincidence (and excuse) for badly articulated confessions.
Good evening, there are thunderstorms brewing quiet battles outside my window.