The camera, slumberless, cannot shut out
its visions. Even resting in your palm,
lens cap on, it beholds the numb black.
Without you, it forgets—all
oblivion. You are the mnemonic,
the trick of recall.
_                                     _ The body
is a dark hallway the mind
winds through. A door briefly blinks, and the film,
enlightened, moves on in darkness.
_                                                                         _ I notice the invisible
worries you. You want
to pop the body open, study
flesh as ghost.
_                              _See,
you can’t. The darkness carries
_                                                                 _without gestation.
What you saw stays what you saw,
and, like any dream, is damaged
by brilliant awakening.