Run, I beg the girl in the frame.
I beg the girl in the frame.
She’s black and white and squared in silver.
The danger is coming—It will be there
soon, at your door
with a smile and clouded eyes,
salt and pepper hair combed neatly
to the side.
Already he’s in orbit,
tracing smaller circles to your gate,
drawn by gravity
to the warm and liqui…