Saturday, January 11, 2014

The Photographer

The photographer looks at things a different way.
Nature, humanity, colors…
A tilt of the head, shutter fires.
The fabric of a new creation.

Tired of the struggle.
An artist's life.
Long hours in front of the screen he perfects images he finds lacking.
As a spiritual advisor he acts more than says.

A reclining pose, face in profile.
Shabby house you had to fix.
When we met, before I knew you, I wore your shirt in a shot.
Silly me.

Painted backdrops for your work.
Hidden cities made of coal.
Beyond us there are vast expanses.
Wonder where you'll go.

Under an overpass.
Black hair twisted by the wind.
I look back and I see unhappiness.
Your temperament even.

I'll always remember the coat hangers and the recording.
Dear reader are you wondering what this is about?
It's about something personal and dear.
Remind me later to keep it close.

So many faces caught in a moment.
Suddenly flashes of light illuminate skin.
Pearly teeth, pink lips, raven hair, smooth, thin.
A digital graveyard.

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