The photograph – it’s crooked

They’re sitting on a balcony at dusk,
it’s a café in Krakow
the layered dessert in the center of the table
with sharp-sided precision of geometry.
But their faces are soft,
enjoying the adventure of new love
on cobbled side streets.
20-something hostel love.

Why’s the photograph always tilted

She fixes it each time she walks by.
Maybe it’s from the construction site down the hill,
setting off explosives at noon.
Monday to Friday-
vibrations travel through the house;
the sunroom rattles and cats hide.

or it was an earthquake-

what if she was alone

The glass sunroom would surely shatter.
The bathroom or his walk-in closet-
that’s where she’d go.
!
!
!
How’s it possible to be this high up and compressed?

He’s not here

even when he is

The photograph – it’s crooked