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Wednesday, May 5, 2010


My hands are filled with light.

I am able to touch objects and have

Them transform themselves from

My imagination into manifestations

Of radiance. Here a house

Rises from a small rabbit’s foot.

Here a road unrolls and stretches

Out from my desk all the way

To Atlanta. It is like magic.

It is like longing. It is like looking

At photographs and trying to make

Them blueprints for emotions.

There is no future in the past.

As we come closer to the moment

Veracity seems almost under our

Fingertips. The photograph is always

Less cluttered than the world.

I look at your photograph. I am happy

To be seeing you for a moment. My

Hands turn it over. There is white

Space, like snow, like this moment.

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