Poems

Recognising (pronounced: ying) shadows/films (pronounced: ying)

I went back to the old place
the chairs are getting more and more comfortable
the cold air that instantly dimmed
and the acoustic wraps you from eight sides
together with the gaze staring at you
it turns into wallpaper
 
only the shadows that stop are real
this is safety
nothing about reality is important any longer
the audience won’t [go through life’s stages/grow old get sick and die]
does where you are not need cinemas any more
without cinemas how can you settle down to say nothing of being content
without having, with any stranger in the darkness,
kneaded or talked of love how can we grow up to be
people with shadows
but you no longer need a shadow/film
 
why doesn’t the temporarily borrowed comfort fade
in the sudden darkness and brightness of
your and my ransoming our shadows we used to recognise/know each other

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