Treasure Island

Deborah Cox

The Wedding Photographer

Black on white nights
arrest the light
of our flight;

our aperture is low
- shutter-speed, slow -
as we’re scanned in a line:
open, overexposed,

evading - like
a negative, grain,
and a burnt tongue lingers
on absence – the same

game that's paused
for development
as the pixels hold back
our fingers from a trap

and the scars its traces map
with the perfect look
an imperfect one has tracked.

Submitted: Thursday, April 03, 2014
Edited: Thursday, April 03, 2014

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Topic(s): art

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