I lay them in a mandala, the shards of glass
I pull from my back, one by one. I let them
scar over, and I surround the mandala
in peonies, because the pain was not for nothing
and now that I can watch it from afar, my
pointer-finger-thumb camera brand new,
maybe I can capture something beautiful of it. Flash
on.
and i remember i was really proud of it.
hung it up on my wall and everything when it made the newspaper.
a year ago today, i took the grey-brown frown of november
and molded it into metaphors with my own two hands. looking
Flash on, flash off.
Incapturable, immeasurable.
Maybe it won't be this way forever
but today, only we can see them. Just us.
Our little human secret.
White dots, bits of erasure
on a dark canvas.
Comments
This is so cool I have such a vivid image of what your describing
thank you!
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