film

In a dark theater the chairs but ghosts,

and unborn children

line the walls

we hold tightly to the hands of impossible lovers,

we smile at the tracks in a muddy lane,

unreal and painted across a screen

unloved and asleep,

our mouths are closed and quivering,

and the men who once knew us live in ships at sea,

we are fish in the dirt,

we are cold and burning alive,

we birth but blood and beauty,

blood and beauty,

we live unseen,

our words young fruit,

spotted with the oxygen that turns us blue