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?
firstname.lastname@example.org -- 12 May 1999