looking at those photographs
scrappy edges
wiry film
blurry but not hazy
hazy but not blurry
silent but speaking
in some tongue foreign to me
yet strangely familiar
like an old postcard
ink worn but scented with memories
pictures of people
pictures of things
broken-down cars
old lonesome barns
store fronts
alleyways
colors and tones
washes and finishes
edited
untouched

i saw you in them
or maybe i saw myself
perhaps it was both of us

im outside my body
i saw myself in you
i dont know where you are
i hope you are in happiness
wherever that is
wherever you may be
i dont know where i went

maybe i can find it
that drop of innocence left behind
long ago forgotten
the perpetual search for childhood
the ache for simplicity
longing for something solid
to stop us all from being swept away in the madness
in a world with so much chaos
so violent with envy and lust

those pictures made me sad
and i felt an emptiness i have not felt so incessantly
as if the whole sea had been poured out
over the desert
running out of dry land
no where new to go
no more room left to grow

looking at these frozen moments
these snapshots of stillness in in a world that is spinning
you manage to find the perfect silence
in all of this deafening violence
a momentary pause from perpetual motion
laughter and sunshine
held in place as if god closed her eyes so that for just one moment, the world could hold its breath
and you could bottle it all up
shadows and highlights climbing out of frame
colors flowing
to greet me in my monochrome

they make me ache to feel those memories
to breathe fresh air
to see and not be seen
to be a spectator
of life's hidden moments
to feel something

and for a moment they make me wish
i too could capture the warmth of a spring evening
in a single frame
to find beauty in a street sign
but ill leave that to you