Polaroid

As I blow the dust, it seems that I breathe life into you.

—the frame glows in dim light. Running my fingers on the pane. This feels different from your skin. This cold doesn’t suffice. The warmth that I remember… it’s not the same. The tears putter pitifully, my silent cries are providing you water. Showering you in rain.

could I make a plant grow from your ashes? Will new life sprout green, will grass provide flowering blooms? Will I, like God, bring forth Adam? —And from his rib, give another piece of love, letting you roam this piece of Heaven, this Eden—my heart. My soul.

Our expressions are locked in time. The edges of this are faded, burnt, crimped, tainted. The smiles are frozen in an endless trance. The flame of life seems to have gone. But I still feel you. In the silence.

The memory is in sepia. My dreams are in vibrance.

it stands in time. Unmoving.