Sunday, 2 September 2012

true targets

Silent stories conspire
To tell me that I’m the only one that this hard for
An awareness staring
Image distorted in a mirrored hall
Hypnotised detectives raising to aim at one another
And the man with the safety word stands, back to the wood panels
A true target accidentally found
Talked toward a world removed from the old
Then closed the loop again and couldn’t squeeze through the whole
Talking again
Talking again
There he goes with that talking again
Rereading dialogue from last season’s scripts
Annotating the subject debated
Selves on sleeves free form idea arrangement
That was just masquerade
Seems he’d forgotten how to play
Said what he meant
Said what he meant
And felt something too
Shell Shocked by the callous shot from the pedestal
Flesh torn
Still standing
Soaked in swallowed pride and alcohol
And Talking again
Talking again