Fade in sepia scenery
Air, tasting oddly stitched with sour
sweeps her bangs lightly
from painted forehead,
Made up like a harlequin lips red
Always distantly dipped in felicity
That sterilized smirk.
To speak with her
Is a chance. he’ll indulge.
Smelling vaguely of
Luck.
Donning shades of gray
Laid back.
Firmly striding on to the set
he reaches towards her hand
Refused, advanced
And taken back again
Nothing solid plays
When acting with fallacy
No physical
Untouched
She speaks in words so
Soft
Weaving props with her voice
Acting warmth into
That sour air.
She is playing perfect
He is in deep tones speaking
Flawless
Absolutely
All improvisation
Common bond relationship
Floating the same current they
Make it work
Make love
Make it perfect
All back story and sequels unseen
Cut out
We are all so free of fear
We are all just acting here.
Copyright 2005 King_Crazy_Dave
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