Monday, September 5, 2011

Silent Movie

His tears were the taste of a silent movie
and holding them in my hand I began to
see my way through the haze and smoke
of his old, leather heart.  He only wished
to find someone to love, like me.

But, his black and white visage spoke
in words I could not read on his heart.
Mine is too broken to see that far.
Eyes beholding only sad dreams,
bitter pills, numbing agents, flames.

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