# #photography 8 poems ## [photobooth](https://chromato.graphics/photobooth) shoes stick to the floor, we wander past the bar into a dim red-lit lounge. pinball, locked door, you. you’re a seeing machine. pull your curtain closed— shroud us in secrets that end just above our waist. tap on a train faregate, a beep reminds us that transportation isn’t free, a short trip still costs us. you’re a seeing machine. see what we’re made of. we’re trapped here now, we can’t hide from flash. all whirring and waiting. don’t know how long ’til our capture, our release. we kiss from impatience. you’re a seeing machine. our mouths are blurring, hands in hair, bite marks in flesh. we have no time. falling back into the light. was there music before? we lean against the box, we cannot lose contact. you’re a seeing machine. you take time to develop. wait here: a strip will fall. freeze us in four frames. ![Black-and-white four-frame photobooth strip of two people kissing.](https://chromato.graphics/_astro/photobooth.CBK1CijU_Z184ngP.webp) ## [violet](https://chromato.graphics/violet) your aperture narrows as _f_ /our voices deepen sunlight burns through exposed cloth shutters we made you to protect an us we never realized would be safe as she is it’s no decorative pansy darkrooms reveal stains & splatters under safety lightbulb, glowing ruby our eyes don’t adjust yet we have twins, don’t we? is it sisters, not twins? god, no that’s a different flower entirely — rosemary ## [use](https://chromato.graphics/use) craving total transformation, identity a disposed wrapper. becoming a vessel for want, glass poured into, overfilled. you haven’t been here lately. something in our combining always begins this reaction: photochemical excited state learning how to spark again — days ago: gel, pumps, bulbs, rattling pill bottles and nerves, black gloves, gold foil, silicone. it’s warmed up enough already. don’t ask or guess — just _know_. take a part you claim as yours, shape it to your pleasure. use. time stutters; the gears grind forward under prying pressure. repairing hidden mechanisms, counting every beat yourself. disappearing deconstruction: ripped apart by heat and light, shredded into a thousand tiny pieces of steel. shrapnel blast. there is stillness in oblivion, peace made in the darkness. clenched fists, soaked linen. i swear. i won’t move. i can’t. ## [wrist](https://chromato.graphics/wrist) i clocked the watch once and wished its red hand swept across your face i knew i’d want the date i saw the toy’s hallmark that predates its maker cupid’s bow pointillism it looked best in color i slipped on a staircase tripped on slippery oak fell into a concrete pool cut and bruised joints you caught me there held me — rubbed salt into my fresh wounds to heal and to hurt me a thin black strap is all that holds back the sun when this camera falls it’ll leak light forever three solid bands form an unbroken bracelet brass never gleamed until becoming a label holding mine down against white silk, gray wool, graffiti it’s easy to go deep ## [mirror](https://chromato.graphics/mirror) i’m sorry i bumped into you. i thought you were a mirror. your clear surface showed what they saw of me then. parties are meant for diffusion, but we focused instead. twisting the lens to almost make out what was there. i’m sorry i couldn’t touch you. i thought you were a mirror. i feared leaving greasy prints for everyone to see. museums of mailboxes and phones reveal past and future connections. a present — behind smudged display glass. i’m sorry you didn’t see me waving at you in the city. i thought you were a mirror. you weren’t yet waving back. being gay is hard sometimes. hotel bathrooms get steamy, you can’t always get the right angle before the image blurs. i’m sorry we were interrupted. i thought you were a mirror. i never dreamed anyone would walk through it and shatter the glass. i need to move but i can’t sleep. some things aren’t done yet. i’m hiding from sunrise, from men, under blankets and cardboard towers. i’m sorry i looked so long. i knew you were a mirror, but i couldn’t spot the vanishing point. some reflections distort; yours perfects. ## [incision](https://chromato.graphics/incision) half decade wishes: a leveling out. forbidden kisses the right choice, no doubt central park consult king cole martini review old results discard bikinis photograph the curves archives in high gloss the things i preserve, they’ll surely just toss day before phone calls rage at the system its stops, starts, & stalls need to assist him sleep, holding a heart cleanse every surface wrong name on the chart _of course you deserve this_ wave as the doors close _don’t use the “b” word_ eat eggs as you doze the artwork looks blurred a husband’s phone rings let me inside there treat you like a king hold cups as your care bumpy ride that night late rooftop phone call two beams of bright light never forget fall a week goes by fast managing your pain see yourself at last straight scars and no drain i cry more than you do it hits me deeply this thing that you choose didn’t come cheaply a body transformed like overnight oats years since your plans formed i’ll keep taking notes ## [camcorder](https://chromato.graphics/camcorder) twentysomething object built to take a beating— recording blurry scenes to wound cassette tapes. humming with precision opening up when pressed her red button worndown by many careless owners. secondhand machine with new ways of seeing inside freezing a frame when it can’t take this much in… an observation device for triangular dynamics that separate signal and static projecting what is actual. a new lease on life from repairs to its internals, charging, maintenance, & importantly: regular use. ## [108°C](https://chromato.graphics/108c) sunny side up eggs cook with sunshine denaturation begs, bonds across time waveformed Q train park date prospects PascalCase names everywhere object polycarbonate layers exposed gold livewire angel of gay prayers film stock, unexpired bumblebee chapstick seeing in rainbows jet turbine fuel drips one port won’t close