Shut Down the Cinema

By Anonymous

nine bruised pennies,

        eight glasses sparkling,

              seven of your photographs torn.

 you said you’d had a dream about your sister;

   she was dying, or you were dying,

       or your brother was dying

                except you didn’t have a brother

   and even if he was

     dying you and your sister only 

            cared about each other.

                       the planes were crashing,

                        the boats were sinking,

                        you a kissed a man you thought

                   was god hoping maybe he would

                   save you. he wasn’t god. he

kissed you back. and the 

                 world, like movie credits,

        was rolling to its end,

        and really, it was gorgeous,

            or maybe you were—

   you are where it all ends. you are

                        where it all begins.

     in my dreams you always die at the end

          or you turn out a saviour.

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