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Caught In the Lens

The ebony night crawls With its webbed feet On my distressed mind, To peel off my fusty clothes, From my fatigued body, Stinking me like the putrescence Of my time, and of my life, Feels me then As light as feather Floating up into the azure. Before my inner eyes, Barely exposed I’m In my living portrait Caught in the lens of camera Zoomed in and out To perfect my image With my own personal touch Just for hanging in the wall Of my living room.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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