If I had the chance,
maybe I'd go back
to when our Polaroid was still dark.
There was more possibility then.
I was looking at you
through a rose-colored lens
and what [I thought] I saw
was amazing.
I snapped a picture
(possibly too quickly)
and wrote my favorite four-letter word
on the bottom of the film,
mostly because I liked the way my hand felt
while forming the letters.
But we've developed now,
and I'm not sure I like what I see.
Only part of you made it into the frame,
and you were blurred around the edges—
almost like you were moving.
(And most of the time I couldn't tell
wether you were coming or going.
I think I know now.)
Your hands and your lips,
those were the only parts of you
that came out clearly.
Your eyes and your heart
we're the hardest to see.
*But I noticed someone
in the background
that came out a lot clearer
than I had expected.
And maybe, because of him,
the Polaroid isn't so bad after all.