poem: Aperture

someone told me my eyes were special once,
but it was for the wrong reasons

one glance and he had me in a darkroom
with synthetic tears rolling down my cheek

for a fact of life and hold it still
in black and white or my scrapbook

still the amber doors won’t close
when you step inside

(shut the shutters and up
the stairs)

but in the background i heard someone saying
that there have to be some repercussions

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