I. i’m tired of soft, careful romance.

give me something to work with here.

i want breathless, hearts pounding
show me life, show me lightning
i don’t want details, don’t give them to me
we’re in a movie, and you forgot your lines
and the director keeps shouting, screaming at you
and i can see you’re hurting
and i don’t know how to help you

II. it’s a different movie, a different time
or at least we submit ourselves to the illusion

that time has passed
that this somehow makes us new people
but in actuality
i’m still me, you’re still you
and we’re both still drowning

in the bottom of the swimming pool
so let’s just forget it, okay?

III. and yet,
here we are, shooting the scene in the rain
it’s dark, and we’re alone
(except of course, for the director and film crew)
we run our lines, you put your hand on my shoulder,

look away in the distance
(perfect, perfect everyone mumbles)
you turn to me, and suddenly
lightning
your face illuminated, there’s something different in your eyes
something harder, darker
(yes! yes! the director cackles. that what we’re looking for!)

IV. filming is over.
you don’t look my way anymore.