Wednesday, March 9, 2011

No Pictures of my Face, Please

It could undo all our carefully tied knots.
It could put a dent in the whole
damn operation, just this, this very
thing that we're holding here,
but quick, crinkle it, put it in your pocket.
I don't like being seen by you without knowing.
I don't like not having a say
in when I can and cannot drive for miles,
when I do and do not open my eyes,
when I show and show not my teeth,
frail-white,
'fraid they'll be gone before much else.

There's this moment
before you take my picture
when the lens ascends,
and everything gets fuzzy
just before that moment of clarity
and then:

clear, smooth picture
of someone else entirely.

No comments:

Post a Comment