Cinematic Evocation


a movie.


As I watch

the characters blush,

so do I.

As they fight,

I begin to fall on



Sharp clay

molded from the characters

tips my emotions.

I am (not) the characters.


The clay-edge hurts

and it digs deep

to disembowel,

my real emotions

in a skillful

character assassination.


Losing my interior,

I become an icy shell

as my memories

writhe like snakes

across the floor,

for all to see,

but not to



I miss

having someone

I desire to

shower my affections on.

I feel buried

in past memories

when lost in thought.

Breath does not come easily.


The lack of breath

leads me to impulsiveness.

I strike

at hot iron

with my clay knife.

It shatters,



However the force,

knocks the iron

the hell

away from me.


When I pick my guts

off the floor

and stick them back


the movie has ended.

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