New Medium - Faded Paper Figures

There’s a light on the floor

Shows your just out the door

In a Russian film we belong

Like a gentle jolt of montage

Where the mis-en-scene flies

Back and forth into your eyes

I can hear you writing

I read between the lines

I can hear you writing

In pictographic signs

There are shadows on the wall

In the caves where trains crawl

We can cut our indirect hearts

When the edits keep us apart

When the acetate lies

In the darkness of our eyes

All of these memories collide

This is the medium tonight

You and me editing time

I can hear you writing

I read between the lines

I can hear you writing

In pictographic signs