Prisoner's Cinema

Enveloped by the blanket of late dusk
Spring storm murdered the incandescent light
Of the neighborhood mid-chapter
The spidery fingers of the palm rake unforgiving
Across the only small window
Thoughts start to wander like an inquisitive dog
Close your eyes and watch the dancing lights
Flicker, skip and morph into something semi-coherent
The interior narrator whispers softly,
Did you do the right thing last December?
When you left her on that dismal day in Paris?
The only contact you now have with her
Are your eyes meeting fleetingly from a heavily creased Polaroid
Taken by a stranger with a cigarillo infront of the Eiffel Tower
But you just had a feeling didn’t you?
The rain comes harder now, battering the tiled roof
Took directions from your misled heart again?
Thought you were doing the right thing?
What are your thoughts now?
What are they?
A thick bolt of Miami lightning tears across the ominous sky
You count the seconds between the flash and the thunder
Are all the swift sporadic exits caused by questionable intuition
Just a side effect of sensory deprivation?
Just keep telling yourself that.