CAMERA-SHY

by Arthur Smid

A ghost eats what can be forgiven of its body
The weakest things, its higher calling to make love

The sun spreads over me
at the table when I look
You are becoming a body of light

An echo for the voice it vanished from
Saying, I don’t believe there’s a mirror to my soul

Not seeing you’re alive
I step outside and look
You are becoming a body of light

Stepping out the door, you enter again
Again and again and we become so close

I’m falling slowly rising
Lights burn the darkness
I am becoming a body of light

*

An echo for the voice it vanished from saying, I don’t believe
There was a mirror to my soul not seeing you
But you’re still alive and camera-shy.

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