← v15n2, Fall 2016
Poetry · Volume 15, Number 2

The Darkroom

In negative both body & sand graduate only slightly any pure black

they’ve recovered from the light

Revealing as the prints emerge in their basin once again the way

a simple swirl of flesh

Across the grained vanilla of the beach allows for sensual waves

rising & falling breaking

Free of my own misunderstanding of the day & your own as well

& because light’s a most complex companion

& the most fluent & most amused by touching only what it wishes

to expose

Obscuring anything it’s chosen to refuse or grown bored by just

slipping off into its own shadow left opaque

& pale as those expectant ghosts in the dregs of my espresso cup

tossed out nonchalantly into the wet street

By a waiter watching us walk away from this café into an evening

of sudden dark curtains & a platinum spring rain