Friday, December 4, 2009

The Photography Exhibit

In some, faces flicker
Like candle flames
When doors close.

In others—you know
Which ones—the doors
Are already closed.

You’ve never seen
These images before,
And yet you have.

They crawl like bugs
On the inside
Of your eyelids.

You badly want
To open the door
And let them out.

But you can’t
Take your eyes
Off of that one:

How did he know
You were coming
To see your life?

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