I walked into the set, harsh light 

blinded my fellow actor from my 

colour –– universally named as ––

ching chong; scrubbed swine pink

by a decade of whitewashing.

No twinky pupil, nor burly teacher.

‘Twas a queen-sized bed, familiar

with our weights minus speeches.

Blink. Click. Snap. Roll. Action!

Bronze snakes with cream babes.

Dim light loomed the gaffer’s crown.

You reached across our shadows, 

thanked me for teaching you a lesson.

You left as I dreamed about the teacher 

fucking the pupil moaning. Cut!

Old dent’s trough kissed new boy’s peak.

Bedspring like a balance scale, tipped.

He –– whiter, older –– swallowed me

as his next lessons. I –– lighter, emptier ––

flung sky high, over the dead blossoms.

In the clouds I thought about love 

that didn’t vivisect my fat nose

& strand me flat, sad. Then, Splat!

He left as I dreamed about the teacher

fucking the pupil coming. Cut!