supple

i wanna reach across the table & kiss you,
the whole postmodern deal with strings & angels
& the patrons standing up applauding, applauding for hours.
as the camera pulls back for the long shot we think will fade
into the credits,
my eyes open over your shoulder & i wink into
the darkened cinema,
my fingers lifting up to wave.

what i don't see is that shot dissolve
to a wink of your own.

hey! is this the end of the movie or the beginning?

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ted@magicdog.com -- 12 May 1999