Distant, ashy, close to the edge,

I might lose you in the pauses.

Faded by the spotlight,

disguised in white paint.

Misshapen, lost to certainty,

you focus on the expanse

between touch and revulsion.

Illusion of stop-motion movements

the absence of catching breath,

a long drawn out suffering,

denial of the body’s quickness.

Minor redemption in beauty,

sly and maneuverable.

photo by: Eduardo Sciammarella