The music of faces never lets up
Songs sung in the past never quite end
A facial orchestra plays tunes that
Slice the air to strips of color
Each one a memory lost
I sit within the camera
Focusing portraits and passports
The lens is a two-sided mirror
Spirits gently breach its surface
Fearing what they might unmask
There are eyes I see that look to God
Eyes that reverse pupil and sclera
Eyes that only look inside and see
Not what they wished
Faces disclose hope
Lack of faith in any hope
Forehead vessels tick like clocks
Tolling above struck eyes
Cool as steel in snow
Some try to pull your heart out your chest
Demanding you sing their melodies
I study my subjects before they arrive
Look for the marks love leaves on the body
Spots and blemishes you might not see
Unless you borrow the eyes of another
My subjects become me though I’m unbecoming
I etch their feelings onto the screen
Too many missed;
I’ve never found myself
The pictures play dissonantly
I live through their lives
Though I’ve never had one myself
My love sings to them
But robots cannot love
We can only channel the light
Listen, and shoot