Print

There's a light on the floorShows your just out the doorIn a Russian film we belonglike a gentle jolt of montagewhere the mis-en-scene fliesback and forth into your eyes.I can hear you writingI read between the linesI can hear you writingin pictographic signsThere are shadows on the wallin the caves where trains crawlWe can cut our indirect heartswhen the edits keep us apartWhen the acetate liesin the darkness of our eyes.All of these memories collidethis is the medium tonightyou and me editing time.I can hear you writingI read between the linesI can hear you writingin pictographic signs From Letras Mania