The world forms a square still life
Do we understand how angle creates shape?
This vantage pretends knowledge
And I have always been a liar.
I know nothing. The road is endless
White lines of Morse code, and a failure
Of speed limits. I am moving so fast
In so many strange directions.
Permanently at the click of a shutter
Then joy in the half-light opens.
I miss you.
Through this lens, the world
Curves into itself near-fetal.
With the right tilt, the sun
Forms a halo—a bouquet of spots
You rub your eyes and move away
From the camera.
You move away from the camera
And the spinning of the earth takes over.
Notice the arch of the planet
How beautiful the bend of its back
The way it carries almost
These negatives preserve what can’t be said.
I want to ask you something in the red, front room
Of your home. Only, you have returned to the earth’s
Belly—you can’t answer me. The camera gives.
The camera takes away
Your essence before we can