public display of affection
There's always going to be someone at the window,
looking in on your life as you live it, taking pictures
or maybe just notes to bring back to the office and work
into a screenplay, that will become a Sundance hit
that some big-time studio will pick up and make a blockbuster.
In which case you'd better look your best always, choose a
soundtrack for the precise and quiet moment when you sweep
your loving wife into the bedroom and shut the door
with a knowing and affirmative click. Or the exact palette
of colours for the sky, the leaves, the light falling on your
breakfast table, when you hand her an apple, one of dozens
from the same tree, but rendered holy by this simple, single
act. There could be no one watching at all, not God, not even
a mouse, but why not be sure? Why not check the gates
are fastened and secure, the curtains drawn and the lights
dimmed beyond recognition before you kiss her in a fashion
no one else has thought of before, in a wholly original manner
poets would kill to witness and record, with a passion
neither of you knew or could ever imagine?
20 January 2003 18:13 hours
|
|