Again already

Watching re-runs of
Sepia tinted movies,
Prepare, beware,
Play the game-
Not you, me.
Your suit is stained
Red on white.
Don't get wine, rain,
Whine about a papercut
Betray my flight
If I am only fair.
It is a command
To alter survival
And the rules of this,
That, whenever, will be
Always a self service.
You are in fresh opal,
Are you not he?
Ssh, storm, still as thunder
Echoed in this sleazy Ouse.
Angels are painted 90 degrees
Because of your impossibly
Blind eyes. Real life,
A place to play the game-
Not you, I said, I promise,
]Not you! Look,
Be patient an hour yet.
A mermaid approaches,
Do you hear?
Or are you
Too lousy listening?
Stained with love's wine,
I impeach my modesty
In the worth of your counsel.