I sometimes take pictures of things I find
that speak and claw and rattle the soul
Things beautiful

A stretch of streetlight silhouette
Iron tasting winds and time
The haze of scrollwork shadows

My camera speaks
In faulty pictures
Like a story you mistake for memory.

Once I stood in the hallway of a hotel
sunlight gushing through the arch ahead
a daydream warm to the touch.
I took a photo
and a cloud swallowed the sun.
Two fleeting breaths and it was lost
The hallway just a hallway
forever beyond my lens.

Life is not still and silent
Posed and framed.

It is bent railings
Creeping vines

And the search for the magic beyond the moment.

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