I tire of this cliche cinema
This silver screen has tarnished
This manufactured tension
Is nothing but shadow puppets
Give me a moment of golden silence
Let me savor that sweet afternoon
Light
Where the sun melts
And touches me like velvet
I want your hand on my knee
As we drive
With the open window breeze
I need to find a sublime wasteland
In the dark
Where the word alone
Is a prayer
Mark me with purity
Color me with ash
Give me serenity
So I may touch my lips
And kiss
The sweet dawning of the stillness
That let’s me listen
To my voice
Over the din of this trite
And hollow
Lamenting of this world