Friday, September 22, 2006

The Black Box Theatre

The lights dim; red, blue, green still trace our faces. Our stillness turns into movement, and back to stillness, no voice in our midst, no lines, just movement. We breathe as one in each new vector; exhale to a new partner. We trust our bodies to tell a story. We trust this black box to shadow who we really are.

moonless night
a boy and girl dance
in and out of headlights


Blogger J. Andrew Lockhart said...

very nice!

6:29 PM  
Blogger whitney said...

Wow. Makes what we do seem so...poetic? Ha.

11:21 PM  
Blogger Tikkis said...

one by one
red marks appearing
onto boy's cheeks

12:35 AM  
Blogger Natalia L. Rudychev said...

Excellent haibun!

3:52 AM  
Blogger polona said...

sounds exciting! love it!

11:12 AM  

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