My Camera Poem by kaavyaa kriday

They walk alone—holding hands, basking in the moonlight. I stop and pretend to watch the reflections in the water. My eyes are fixed on something else, though. Him.
Such beauty! That man is beautiful, my heart sighs.

I grab the bench by me and try to keep the growl inside my throat as he runs his fingers through strands of her hair. He strokes her tanned cheek. I have to turn away to stop myself from going over to steal him away. She leans into his embrace; I wonder how he did it—made her believe that he wasn't just using her because he had to be. There wasn't any way they were in love. He would never give himself away. Not that easily.

He pulls away as her lips brush his. He presses his cheek to her. I play with the camera in my hands and wonder what to do. If I go over, if I talk to him, if I make him notice me, would I be able to I watch him anymore? A pain runs through my chest at the thought.
“But... if we could become friends...”
My stomach knots, but I walk over to them.

I try to keep my smile from wavering, 'Sir? ' I benignly ignore her.
He looks up, smiles, 'Yes? '
I hold up the camera. 'You wouldn't mind, would you? '