just a soft film of you
“The frequency at which flicker becomes invisible is called the flicker fusion threshold, and is dependent on the level of illumination. Generally, the frame rate of 16 frames per second (frame/s) is regarded as the lowest frequency at which continuous motion is perceived by humans.
For silent films, 16 frame/s was dangerously inadvisable for projection, due to the high risk of the nitrate-base prints catching fire in the projector.
It is possible to view the black space between frames and the passing of the shutter by the following technique:
Close your eyelids, then periodically rapidly blink open and closed. If done fast enough you will be able to randomly “trap” the image between frames, or during shutter motion.”
//dust//
\swims\
l a n g u i d l y
through light scope
perched upon
window sills,
swallowing;
///////vanilla-clove’d licks//
//wind-kissed fingertips,
//erratic-static. ambivalence.
Piercing, p e r c o l a t i n g
the breath of your silent projection.
crystalized smoke curls,
your sigh
in each iridescent plume of distortion
underwater
undulations,
on our bed,
the one in the canopy tree,
nestled center-stage to backdrops of deep, lush, Africa
where leopards and Peter Pan clink dainty tea-
-cups
goldenocean-dipped, from brim to tiny handle, death and life was each sip;
high and safe from petty hands, grown-up talk in hidden
— Ma$queraDe gown$, safe
from
unseen charlatans
is where I found you,
.:.emancipation.:. in the slightest-lit alley
‘I’ve never felt this way
about anyone’
vinyl scratching
somewhere above us in suburban streetlights, where inertia dances, pushes us
closer
closer
closer; you can’t leave me, okay?
i s l o v e a n i l l u s i o n at 16 frames per second
because,
I stole.
your
seraphic image, the shadows.
the sweet redolence that evanesced. the trembling. the clavicle. the pelvis,
between | | |||| | | |||||||| ||| | | | | | still frames
I trapped it— f o r e v e r.
| | | | | ||| ||||||||| | | |||| | |
after your beauty
fell
in
front of
me
like
a
prayer
falls
from my lost
mother’s
lips.
For silent films, 16 frame/s was dangerously inadvisable for projection, due to the high risk of the nitrate-base prints catching fire in the projector.
It is possible to view the black space between frames and the passing of the shutter by the following technique:
Close your eyelids, then periodically rapidly blink open and closed. If done fast enough you will be able to randomly “trap” the image between frames, or during shutter motion.”
//dust//
\swims\
l a n g u i d l y
through light scope
perched upon
window sills,
swallowing;
///////vanilla-clove’d licks//
//wind-kissed fingertips,
//erratic-static. ambivalence.
Piercing, p e r c o l a t i n g
the breath of your silent projection.
crystalized smoke curls,
your sigh
in each iridescent plume of distortion
underwater
undulations,
on our bed,
the one in the canopy tree,
nestled center-stage to backdrops of deep, lush, Africa
where leopards and Peter Pan clink dainty tea-
-cups
goldenocean-dipped, from brim to tiny handle, death and life was each sip;
high and safe from petty hands, grown-up talk in hidden
— Ma$queraDe gown$, safe
from
unseen charlatans
is where I found you,
.:.emancipation.:. in the slightest-lit alley
‘I’ve never felt this way
about anyone’
vinyl scratching
somewhere above us in suburban streetlights, where inertia dances, pushes us
closer
closer
closer; you can’t leave me, okay?
i s l o v e a n i l l u s i o n at 16 frames per second
because,
I stole.
your
seraphic image, the shadows.
the sweet redolence that evanesced. the trembling. the clavicle. the pelvis,
between | | |||| | | |||||||| ||| | | | | | still frames
I trapped it— f o r e v e r.
| | | | | ||| ||||||||| | | |||| | |
after your beauty
fell
in
front of
me
like
a
prayer
falls
from my lost
mother’s
lips.