COME ALONE

I float,
in passive awe
of your flawless gray perfection.
The enveloping comfort,
autonomous dark
all around,
without even a ripple of contemplation
for the many
sharing my silhouetted throne.

You ease me,
into pearly frames,
glistening contradiction –
so real
yet removed,
considerable distances
from my everyday.

Shimmering,
monochromatic velvet
and black satin strip -
burlesque apparition
mounted on tenuous spools -
silver and nitrate,
the evaporating secrets in composition
painted with light…

…and shadow
Till flicker dissolves,
then fade out,
and, “the end”

Houselights.
News Reels.

I shut my eyes to savor your imprint
sheen brilliance recaptured.
The drunken recesses of my imagination
rekindle you whole -
speak, so no one else will hear,
“When you come next…”
Dear Gilda,
“Come alone.”


@Nick Zegarac 2007 (all rights reserved).