Apertures

Life imposes on us. Memory superimposes, layering life’s imprints.

Into an aperture between life and memory moves the photographer,

who listens to light, convenes shadows, constructs position.

In the dark room, life and memory wait while hallucination bathes,

inscribes itself on a pane of white-space, coalescing like epiphany

and now rising from the translating pool, prepared to confess to eyes.