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Tempestuous longings from behind the screen of life’s moving picture
You stare back at me, in a glimmering, shimmering afterthought
Laid low by foregoing passion
In a moment’s torrid glimpse from our hollow reflections
Fragrant evenings during seasons of filming
Solemnly captured and revised then experienced
The all encompassing struggle with context and setting
Abides a steely night, in the rustle of autumn branches
Requiem for an unremitting beloved!
Sung in the valley between piercing peaks of sorrow
She floats through the scene as distinct aura and vague essence
An embrace from the trail of vapors and misspent gestures
All emanating from a glass of cider beneath nostrils
Gracefully, you embank on the wind of time’s shadow
And nudge my cheek with impetus and vigor
Lashing out at my skin in ambivalent revelry
As if my follicles were vacuous caverns
Catching the callous moments which flutter the ***** of hillside tents
The unearthly gusts of banality extinguish the projector’s gleam
While nature embodies your beauty furthermore
Toward the end of the pathway
And the credits of the film
And the allegro of the score
And the solitude of eternity
And the rustling of the branches
Our hands frozen together
Black masks
Backpacks
Running from the flashing lights
Down the street

They'll never catch us
No
This is our time
Our night
This moment
This breath
Is us

Sneaking through bushes
Mechanical
Zombied
Black clothes
Hushed tones

Blood pumping
From the rush
A law breaking
High

Like drinking
A full *** of
Coffee
All at once

You swim through my
Veins
Like an adrenaline
Plague

Eggs
Toilet paper
Paint
Krazy glue
Peanut butter

Oh, the hell we'll
Bring

The moon is full to
Bursting
The air is stiff
Lifeless

You and I
Multitasking mischief
Together
Bonding over
Cracked shells
And pumpkin guts

Giggling through the
Stars
Almost caught
Almost lost
Almost...
In love?

No! Not that!
No emotions
No adult things
On this
Our one and only
Night of fun

The night meant for
The monster that lives

Under our skin
zombied, multitasking, coffee, adult things.


© October 2010 Sarah Lynn

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