The Kiss

The Kiss.

She kisses him with the cold passion of the Hollywood star,
Replayed from a black and white movie, a time long ago,
Her black lips tasting of too much wine and cigarettes.

His hair is well oiled, well versed words perfectly phrased
But they’ve begun to forget their script and rain falls
On an unknown sidewalk, as the crowds soon melt away.

Two forgotten names safe in celluloid dreams,
Familiar faces fading from grey to black
As an unseen orchestra replays their parting reprise.

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About Maitiu

I am a collection of aspects. A father, a husband, an uncle, a son, a teacher, an aspiring writer, an amateur photographer, a poor guitar player, a slightly better singer... Online however I am a 365er looking to find out what people make of my personal poetic musings and my photographs. Drop a penny in an old man's hat and let me know what you think... (Leave a comment!)
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