The Capturer
Sometimes I wish I could close my eyes
and not see the world around me. Pretend
I’m not the way I am, compulsed
to save. I take pictures of the dirt
because I love the patterns, afraid
to forget. I pick up flyers, ripped
by the wind, wanting to know stories
that weren’t meant for me. But if I shut
my eyes I cannot take things that aren’t
mine, can’t stow away pieces of the world,
can’t capture the things that captured me.
I mean….all of this. It’s ethereal and lives in a place in between all those things you don’t want to lose/forget.
“Pretend/I’m not the way I am, compulsed/to save. I take pictures of the dirt/because I love the patterns, afraid/to forget. I pick up flyers, ripped/by the wind, wanting to know stories/that weren’t meant for me. ” are the kind of lines you want to crawl inside and live in.
I am moved and more human from this work. Thank you so much.
We invest so much power in eyes/perception. Seeing is a form of consuming. Cool insight—thank you!
I take pictures of the dirt
because I love the patterns, afraid
to forget.
Very observant… Lovely lines