Explorations: II

It's my private theatre
The black and white
Screen moves
With you and I
As the only actors

I, the only viewer
Match the screen
Move at its pace

The film rolls
And in stoic silence
I stare as your lips
Move in carefully

Measured movements

The movie of silent era
Shot in the age of sound
Has all your dialogues
On my lips in their varied
Shades, tone and meanings
Intact!

poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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