We don't say words in our silent movie.
The words are scrabbled under our feet
On flowing space across the frozen screen --
We only open our mouths to music.
The music ties all things in one long sentence.
The moving things are taking words away.
I do not hear your words -- I see your face
With the convulsions of the bass and treble.
We don't paint colours in this silent movie --
All things divided into black and white,
Cut by the gestures of the pantomime,
When we engrave in music our movements.