Sepia, grain and old movies

by paolo macariola

you are just like a mirage now
blurred at a certain moment
but vividly clear the next
i watch you
slowly appear and disappear
to the rhythm of flickering screenlights
you are there
like a transluscent curtain
in front of a fast talking yellowish movie
and slowly
as i inhale another pound of poison from my menthol lights
i notice your apparition blur
not only from the residue of my habitual smoking
but also from the haze of my foggy persona
and as the smoke thinned out
the way it should
as seen in old tagalog movies
you disappear
unexplainably fading out with no credits
no applause
no popcorn
just a sepia tone
that has lingered in this room
yellow enough
to be mistaken for the nicotine stains
in my fingernails
from sleepless nights
of smoking soggy cigarettes