You fall before the final scene,
Tipped from the lip of suicide.
You try to fix a stable point,
Out there, beyond the camera stare.
Her face is lit in vivid green,
Your clammy palms and dripping tongue,
Obscene in spirals, circles, swirls:
You’re trapped and haunting streets of lust.
Obsessive cycles, garish forms:
You can’t avert your preying eyes.
You pray to find one last release.
A dress, a gaze, address, a death,
Then life – a woman, painted, pinned,
An object of your falling dreams.
response to the film “Vertigo”.