| |
Even after you love me,
Betray and abandon me,
Your photograph still holds my love
It eternally opens a space
Between your qualities
And the core of your enigma
It seduces my despair
And allows me to find love
Through fetish and fantasy
You take away something
From me that you never had,
And which anyway I never wanted
I only prize these fulvous photographs
Throbbing in sepia time,
Temporarily hung like some magic
In an audacious paradigm
Of interpretation and role,
Seeking presence after departure
It leads me to surrogates and traces
Beyond a lack that matches your photo
In absolute ecstasy |
|
