Magnification

Close up is when you see the cracks, the lines etched, scratched onto canvas. An oil painting that survived a fire. Close up is when you see the ash loosen, drift away in a breeze. Smoke. Something once hot white turned to charcoal. Close up is when you see the riverbeds dry now from drought, once drenched with desire. Cargo stuck in the mud of the water we were. Close up is when you see marrow, the blood and bone bristling under transparent paper once pink and once flesh. Once strong. Once marble. So leave, please. See me blur as those cracks become hazy. Retire, step back. Zoom out. Fly up with only a dot down here to see. Take a snapshot out of focus. Forget to develop the memory of me.