I fear that inside
I’m made of silver halide
I can’t risk exposure,
so my pupils go wide

as they thirst for light
in this room sealed tight
while lusting and longing,
for my dark to turn white

and print on my brain
black and white frames
of a moment in time,
that will always remain.

But a moment of light
means I must let some in…

I'm sure my development
can never begin.

See me now,
So you can’t picture me later.
Let the blue light move across my vinyl skin.
Trace the slew of whispered pros down my spine,
too soft to hear.
Pull my hair until you tear out the pages that I won’t read you,
Because I won’t read you.

I’m fine with watching the movie and never reading the book.
Maybe skimming the first few pages, then leaving the rest to collect dust on the nightstand...
Without so much as a bookmark.

For now, our legs on cotton sheets are moving on the screen.
A flash of images refracts into our minds,
only to be lost by next week.
A predictable plot.
No suspense of a next chapter.
No rich velvet of ink on our eyes.
They say the written word is dead,
But I don’t know…
maybe someday I’ll try to read something…
But not tonight-

Hit Play.