Always a camera on the table,
always memory carded in its side,
the lure to capture some unspoken
angle in ordered frames, as if these
dimensions can tell the whole story in
double exposures. Time blurs the sea;
what is beyond is never considered.
Slow down the blinking shutter
so everything illuminates in well-
composed lines, grid-eyed, pleasing.
The aperture ring opens to its full yawn,
the moment snaps, shutting out neutral
densities, displeasing shadows, higher
definitions pixelated against purpose.
That’s all it ever is, isn’t it – a room left
in light, dots on the page, a grain of truth.
