"Shadow Box"

a still picture.

i captured you in a moment,
in a once upon a time fragment
suspended by hands of time
freely ticking upon tocks
and halted for your time of release.
you are, to me,
a simple still picture
trying to be a part of conscious memories
where subconscious memories dance
upon shadows on walls
and laughter that was reverberated
off the acoustic ceilings.
i captured you in a moment.
a stillness that was both moving and vibrant
free and totally me
cherished and impoverished
of what that "l" word is supposed to be.
but you are not worthy.
not worthy to grace my thin inner plastic linings
of adhesive glue meets matte paper
indulgence of a photo frame
desire upon a memory book.
your pages did not last
i can not escape the mere thought of how
seven little images can capture a few months
a few weeks, a few seasons, a few years....
perhaps we did not like to snap the photo
did not like to capture what was supposed to be free
capture what was supposed to not be exposed
capture what was supposed to be smiles in secret.
yet, i wanted and desired to share you to the world
create my own private threshold of artistic murals
and blown up frames, complete with laced embroidery
and acid free paper among the best quality
for even the sorest eyes to see

yet, i do not capture you.
cannot capture a hidden smile in a shadowbox
a kiss upon the tangibility of lips
the embrace of cologne that one can not see.
limited to senses.
cannot
smell the musky sweetness of intermixed pheromones and indulgent attraction
cannot
taste the full lips complete with my lipstick that was mine for the painting.
cannot
feel the muscular path which guides my hand from the contours of your stomach
to the happy trail which lies beneath hidden sex.
yet i can see.

see that one moment,
that one capture,
that one exposed stillness of a photograph.

is that all you are to me now?

a photograph? an illuminated message of an thumbprint
your cordial nod to saying "I was here" yet I do not see you within my presence
were you just a time upon a season
a growth that I had to spurt through
a tear wasted and plentiful years that I cannot seek redemption?
yeah. you were so much more than a photograph
so much more than a silly little piece of paper
that highlights colors and shakes red eyes and creates film
that is reproduced from the moment that was stolen from us.
and i stile a lot of moments with you.
enjoyed the pure pleasure of every second, every minute, every moment.

and that moment is captured.

-b.r.rivera