Poetry Written Works

Script by Eros Duchannes

There’s a scene that plays in my mind where I’m walking too fast and you’re not paying
attention. The collision knocks me down or maybe it doesn’t but you hold on to me just to be
sure. Our eyes gleam with remembrance and this time a hand is taken into another with no one
leaving… CUT!

I stare into a lens and hold a ridiculously heavy triumph; one you didn’t see because you happen
to have been at a dinner that particular hour.

The story was a hit, but the cosmos had a few changes. I wasn’t walking fast and you were
paying attention, perhaps it was the change in hair or the million faces, that I walked by without
a second glance.

You start to remember the first dance… the only and now lost chance.