the photographer
winter is cold
yet blurred with swirling colors.
the bouncing of shapes--
the friction--should warm
(at least the skin) but
it's only a temporary warmth
the way that a bonfire can only
heat one side of your body at a time.
this is a lense i cannot remember
blink
the pink of my flesh glows.
it knows something i don't
for on monday, weekend music is a
dim piano solo played by a five year old at his lesson.
twist your eyes and you can just hear it.
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