what happens when
you take a
photograph
of yourself —
you take a
photograph
of yourself.
you choose
where your
arms go,
what your
mouth does,
where your
humanness
resides.
you take a
photograph
of yourself
and the
world goes on.
limbs of trees
slightly bend
with the wind.
a black cardigan
lays still in a
pile of clothes.
butter,
effortlessly,
melts into
a sauce.
when you
take a
photograph
of yourself,
a photograph
becomes. lives.
then dies.
the world goes on.