John Grey

J o h n  G r e y

Watching the Black and White Movie

I’m amazed that emotion needs no color,

that all that’s necessary is shade.

Pale is the perfect stand-in for blue.

Gray mimics red so perfectly

like it’s been doing it for years.

A man drained of his hues

kisses the shadow woman.

Dark lips meet.

Ashen lids close.

A feeling like polished silver

overwhelms drab slate misunderstanding.

Then a subtitle suddenly underlines

their charcoal chins.

In heightened silence,

my eyes hear everything.