i like the idea of a poem-within-a-poem, something simpler inside something a little more grand -- but still poignant. so here is a post-it remix - a tiny poem.
BILLIE - twenty-something, beautiful, plus-sized
ALEX - twenty-something, lean, relatively good-looking
INT. CROWDED BAR, NIGHT
BILLIE and ALEX approach an empty table....
i have been lusted after
but i have never been loved.
there is a powerful difference
between my body existing as a trophy--
“FIRST PLACE FOR NAILING A FAT CHICK”
the sun rises
and we are kissing
the bones of yesterday.
i feel bold, i feel eternal
inside of the dew-drop déjà vu
beauty of it.
i don’t want to stop
to worry about our shadows.
let’s sit next to each other
and try to pay attention to something else
when really all we can think of
is how badly we want to touch each other.
- let's look at romance in media vs romance in real life
- what is considered "romantic" by different generations (what is different, what has stayed the same)
- is romance...
- how can memories be good/bad? (ie. is it good to hold on to certain memories, even painful ones?, etc)
- the way we tend to tie objects to memories, how that can effect us
- the pattern...
you are my three a.m.
thoughts, those which glimmer
quietly in the darkness,
i worry i might dissolve
beneath the honesty.
we have haunted each other
a very long time.)
the best night so far
was sitting beside you,
watching every word that fell
from your mouth blossom
and being witness to the sparkling
between your soul and mine.