The last image never made it onto film you see.
It was not captured by a camera and yet it is preserved permanently.
Thousands and thousands of images I captured.
Recording the love and life we had manufactured.
One by one they tell a story so rare and true.
Destined for greatness was my love for you.
But you sank into your pit and I built up my wall.
Neither of us able to withstand it all.
Summed up by the last image I can’t seem to erase.
It is where pain took hold in love’s resting place.
It was an image I never expected to see.
It was not planned on a timer and yet it was punctual in all its glory.
The last time I looked into your eyes,
I saw a man I no longer could recognize.
All I could do was walk as I was pushed away.
Wondering why you were so hell bent on it being this way.
The light became darkness engulfed in a raging storm witnessed by a single lens connected to my heart.
I now detach and put it away.
I can’t keep developing the negative that reversed it all and tore us apart.
~ the poet Z
13 Nov 2014
