Gone in a Flash.
Photos Hold a Precious Moment in Time as Frozen as the Sadness It Brings to Your Face or the Joyful Memory
Gone In A Flash.
Faded photo booth souvenirs stacked in the order of each moment, our faces pressed together to fit in the tiny mirror, behind which the camera captured our grins. Was it time scripted on a strip, of negatives filled with positives... or just a fifty cent catalog of silliness...or both? So in love, I remember that tightness I felt in my throat and chest, whenever you drew near, the deliciousness of each minute spent, in your presence, now reduced to postage sized images, that still make me smile in a water-melancholy way. My eyes moist my heart aching briefly for what was lost, yet preserved. We aged in a flash it seems, perhaps it started there in that tiny booth, with the curtain drawn, you warmth pressed against my lap. Now all that remains are these six exposures revealing innocence stolen by years, a girl I still love in some shadow of my soul, a longing for what could have been, and a curtain pulled tightly across the tomorrows on what has yet to develop in my life.
© 2009 Matthew Frederick Blowers III