short story, we write poems

opus

we write poems: conversation between two. any sort of two
photo:opera, sanako, flickr

Opera

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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7 thoughts on “opus

  1. 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.

writing is everything...

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