Black & White Photography (Edit)

The glossy film in your hand

holds two faces:

one etched into it, and in the light, 

a reflection of yourself. 

Fingertips flick through, pausing on a photograph

As a memory slithers forth to the front of the rest, 

A recollection. 

I reached out to you, 

My hands, an ill exposure, 

glistening with papercuts and sweat 

the result of handling your pictures in secret. 

You kept the photograph away from me.

I asked why there were faint traces of yellow around the edges

You caught my stare

I focused my eyes away, at the door. 

I left you alone in the dark room; 

Speaking to no one:

“This photo yellows with age

and we are of an egg, the core.”

For Whom Does God Prey?

you hang adrift with arms extent, 

open to consume nothing but air in your longing for

thoughts cocoon and confine you,

feeling as content as you are empty

you mean everything, 

but keep your mouth silent, skeptical

why scream when you can hold still for an eternity?

suspended, dangling, shaking only with the wind, 

your company is shared with a few broken leaves

confident once the idea is conceived:

the killer is the one who weaves.

Faith

You were found resting among other pearls swallowed in the midst of the ocean

We stood in lines along the sea’s edge whispering shadowy things about the edges in the water’s movements 

In the midst of building a wall, you struck like a maelstrom, 

Manifesting your image into the lining of our eyes

Moon-kisses hung upon your lips like a stuttering response, trailing

Malignant growths graced across your skin--tainted tattoos of an intoxicating beauty

You stung with each touch

and we struggled to grasp the awakening idea

Every sound you produced called to us, feeding like parasites

Enticed and irrational, we found ourselves facing what we idolized

Sliding into your mouth, we welcomed a forked tongue

“You saved us,” we screamed,

the words in the air forever hung.

the things that are missing

What last was bright, a dream, in eyes wand’ring?

Along, it lies, a scratch in sleep discard

A blanket hides the feel of things. Forward.

You take the answer out of me, cov’ring

A lie, revealed, moving the stained bedding 

You hide the sheets quickly behind old scars

When smiles impact, the force remains, truth marred

Exclaim, the three words now said, commoning

You strike at all of our, once lost, mem’ries 

Dirty bed sheets should be kept at the house

Let’s not rip off the scab—it blossomed old

You sigh, I speak--this ought to be a myst’ry

Thoughts leave, musing, the emotion aroused

Let’s not rip off the warmth when we stay cold