technicolor goodbye

 

this isn’t a noir film
this isn’t pretty
or glamorous
it’s gritty and dour and grim
saying goodbye at the train station
looks so pretty on a postcard
steam and smoke billowing artfully
men in fedoras
women in gloves
but when it’s technicolor
and it’s us
it’s heart-ripping, soul-trampling
bright fluorescent lights pierce
gaudy grime covers the train
the people on the platform
look like Van Gogh’s peasants
it’s all too sad
and I so want to play it cool
I have no cigarette to flick
you have no witty iconic statement
there’s no swelling music
just a plaintive
“don’t go”
that I keep to myself
but that you read in my eyes