When footlights dim in reverence to prescient passion,
forewarned my audience leaves the stage, floating ahead,
perfumed shift, within the stammering silence.
The face that launched a thousand frames,
Betrayed by a porcelain tear, a stained career.
You've played this scene before.
I'm, the mote in your eye,
I'm, the mote in your eye, a misplaced reaction.
The darkroom unleashes imagination, in pornographic images in
Which you will always be the star.
Untouchable, unapproachable.
Constant in the darkness, in the darkness.
Nursing an erection, a misplaced reaction,
With no flower to place before this gravestone.
And the walls bec