1-22-02



looking at the picture in my hand
framed, captured behind glass
I knew it was a picture of us
but I only saw me.
I could see where it was taken
I could see you, smiling at the camera
like a horse and buggy gone wrong
you pulled me around with you,
but you wore your blinders in front of your eyes,
flash after flash drew you near,
I could never get close while you flitted around those flashbulbs.

I was smiling at the time,
probably laughing inside, preconceiving the irony that only I could see
I must have known I'd frame it later,
keeping those times safely bound, surrounded by bars.
The thin glass keeps me from remembering
how alone I felt even when I was with you,
my eyes focus a fraction of an inch before the picture starts,
then my vision goes beyond that,
a different time, a different place, but all I can see is me.