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Feb 2011
In the dark, silent room
The enlarger projects a negative onto a base sheet,
Where long-fingered hands place a contact print
Inside the developer, and wait.

In the dark room,
The smell of fix permeates the air,
And a young man can’t help but stare
At the image sharpening before him, slowly.

In the heart of the dark,
He sees the delicate dimples,
The gentle contours of expression,
The healthy shine behind her eyes.

Blacks, whites, and grays
Hide the color of her skin,
But he can still feel
Her glowing cheeks,
Feel the heat escape from
The flat dimensions

Of the paper,
Because, when words become unclear,
And stop speaking to each other,
He focuses his attention back
On the solemn beauty
In the picture.
Poetry by Ted Boughter-Dornfeld Copyright Β© 2009
Ted Boughter-Dornfeld
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