opus
we write poems: conversation between two. any sort of two
photo:opera, sanako, flickr
arrange the setting.
two people.
it’s around early, middle evening.
opera in paris. a wonderful opera.
sharing the evening of passion and pain dressed up lovely. seated in their own, secret thoughts screaming. they do not touch or move. later when the second scene seamlessly pours over, each one emerges in flight, swimming in synesthesia. hinting of a crest the scene burns so brightly. remembering to breathe, air brings back their world. seated separately they never knew what they shared in silent conversation.
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what a fascinating perspective this poem gives…I really like “seated in their own secret thoughts”!
Yes it’s like electricity wiring their heads on the same page..gorgeous picture
ms. pie, this is a beautiful piece of writing
with some wonderful lines,
“seated in their own, secret thoughts screaming”
I rather much like the form you’ve used for this poem. It almost “reads” like a program guide and then the performance itself, happening here in one stream beneath the surface. Interesting indeed. (May have to “borrow” that format myself sometime!) Thanks.
This piece is sumptuous, gorgeous. “…seated separately they never knew what they shared in silent conversation.”
Well done! And thanks.
I love this silent conversation and have felt those moments when a production just takes my breath away. Beautiful!
“sharing the evening of passion and pain dressed up lovely”
I just love your style.