23.6.13

When Photos Fail



When the eyes are filled with mist
but refuse to blink,

When the sight finds its own mind
and that mind can see,

When limbs refuse to reach for borrowed eyes
and choose to dance and twirl,

When palms and fingers abandon cold boxes
and reach for the scrolls, brushes, and quills,

When the heart is too full
and the breath can't find its way,

Then no memory can falter,
and no paper can fade.

Images are steadfast,
and colors are faithful.

Because the heart saw,
and the heart remembered,
and
the
heart
remembers
still.


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