Truly, Your Photographer

It may be just a portion Perhaps a small detail To get your fire scorching Or lift your deceiving veil One tenth of a second The pressure of my finger A tangible gift beckoned It will forever linger My quirkiness is a blessing Oddness birthed beauty Ingredients in my dressing Don't harm, but rather suit me I don't anticipate riches At least, not by formal currency My prize is within the stitches Sewn together for you to see I'm humbled by the art I have the pleasure of showing On your wall, Pieces of my heart A gift that keeps bestowing