F*%ing is a Metaphor for F*%ing (Revision)

[Todd]

Revision

I suppose we are like an old movie,
black and white,
without the cold complications 
of color, reduced to tired tropes
for an unseen audience.
We become the closed bedroom door,
the giggle and glance 
over breakfast,
in these intricate steps 
to a slow dance
that implies nothing
more than a kiss in the backseat 
of a Continental, the long drag
on a cigarette, which is still 
only a cigarette,
and still fashionable
in the way of old Hollywood—
where these roles are style over subtext,
and the words between us
are captions written on a screen
I can no longer read.

Original

I suppose we are like an old movie,
the black and white,
without the cold complications
of color, reduced to simple tropes
for an unseen audience.
We become the closed
bedroom door,
the giggle and the glance
over breakfast, retracing
intricate steps of a slow dance
that implies nothing
more than a kiss in the backseat
of a Continental and the long drag
on a cigarette, which
is still only a cigarette,
and still fashionable
in the way of old Hollywood—
where it is style over subtext,
and words between us
are captions written on a screen
I can no longer read.

~~~
Notes: Though this is close to the original some slight structural edits were made based on the comments, though not enough to be considered a full revision.