The world is filled with accidental
pinhole cameras
cracks in doorways
holes in fences
points where light is channeled,
flipped, and abused to confuse
our secrets with our proclamations.
We live in these pictures
illuminated by undetected
images. Entire other lives developing,
shining around our corners,
the light I use to read your mood.
A life reflected in the glass
of my prized new photograph;
a distant love smiling hot on a beach,
hung by her new lover, eager to please,
to be viewed on quiet evenings–
over a disinterested shoulder.
This mesh of accidental cameras,
visible but unseen,
populates our shadows
with silent dramas, comedies and tragedies–
and leaks our unwitting, if momentary, broadcasts.
The muted colors of the souls of strangers
dance on our bedroom walls
each of us confident of our privacy
which is preserved only
through obscurity and lack of desire
until even these are exhausted.
