in a flash of light

in a flash of light
your bare shoulder
by the naked bulb
flicked on and off

in a flash of light
your fragile face
bright flashlight lit
photo framed

in a flash of light
your bulging belly
now filled with life
lightning struck

in a flash of light
your flickered eyes
shut and fastened
darkest night

muy bien

I tear the photographs of me into tiny pieces
sort them into colours black and white
brown and blue, green and red and orange
faded like an almost forgotten Majorcan sunset
where we went to forget about Dad
and turn our lives into something new
I wasn’t quite sure what to do
I was only a kid

I glue the pieces of photographs on large sheets
of snowy white paper that is rough to the touch
freshly fallen with no trace of footsteps
as all childhoods should remain
but we know that’s not possible
the pieces are jumbled now
I make them into different shapes
that resemble landscapes

And I am there if you look closely
amongst the rolling hills and fields
a lost boy peeking out from behind trees
you see me waving from inside a cloud
no  angel am I
only torn pieces of photographs
thrown to the wind and scattered
confetti memories strewn

black photograph

with my hand over the lens
I take a black photograph of you
you are there but not there
I am here but not here
a faint glimmer of light
frames the square of darkness
I pass you my soul and you laugh
your nakedness on the bed
exposed like breath on a cold day

it’s all gone pete tong

I waited in that room for you to return
reading between the lines on your face
on the photos taken in a cramped booth
in the amusement arcade on the pier
burning black and white in my hands
just a couple of crumpled square inches
was all I had left and it didn’t feel right

oh well, there was still sand in my socks
and the stain of ketchup from the chips
on the t-shirt bought specially for the day
the taste of salt kept recurring on my lips
like waves crashing on the pebbled shore
as the sun set over the blurred horizon
and the gulls settled down for the night