Literature
Monochrome
As darkness falls and the silver moon rises,
everything's black and white on the horizon.
I see the classic beauty of Myrna Loy
walking these streets of 2014.
It's like I've been taken back in time,
by means of some time machine.
I move to its rhythm
without a rhyme on my tongue.
While white snow flakes fall from above,
I say to myself, in the dark,
"This must be a dream, it's falling apart."
But even a dream - is an experience,
not just mere observation.
And the clock is still ticking,
though times have changed.
The moon of her face is glowing and
her eyelids are batting in front of me,
her skin looks softer than a babies