I want to see your face playing on the screen
of the late night picture show projected
on the wall of dreams inside the blood
of all my lonely rage
and watch you slowly strip down
your clothes
your skin
your bones
until all that is left is the flame of your heart
and the color of your soul
and get lost in the frames of grey
between the flickering pictures
of your black and white painted eyes
and slowly linger in the moment
of temptation to know the beauty
of a kiss from the promise
of forever waiting on your love red lips
and its the kindness of strangers
and the luck of fate
that has me waiting to watch
the late night picture show