Sunday 25 January 2009

Photograph

Optical zoom. I’m close enough to hear
You breathe imagined words of love.
I could count your eyelashes, but when
You blink I can’t keep up. It’s a futile
Pursuit, love. Going nowhere. Green eyes
Go red in the camera, I see passion in
The shot. I stumble over this word, with
Its fatal connotations. Back to the photograph,
Your kissable lips I’m unable to kiss. Teeth,
Stars, smiling life outside the frame,
Revisiting my dreams in the cloudless night.

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