Our fingers lace,
as if they were always knit;
you guide me into the street,
where centuries of secrets rise
between paving stones,
from under darkroom doors.
Like our first embrace,
my new jacket goes unnoticed
in monochrome.
Stolen glance ― snap!
Your eyes flash Kodak,
encompassing everything north.
Nothing important is exchanged;
a few riddles, exhaled laughs,
camera-shy smiles.
Under a suspended crescent,
you surprise ― all quick-turn and lips ―
like the Doisneau.
tk/December 2014
Evocative monochrome read by R.A.D. Stainforth...
