Sunday, March 30, 2014

Photoshop® (the shortest novel imaginable)

Photoshop® (the shortest novel imaginable)

I die fast in this city, outside I die slow
Everywhere I am is just another thing without you in it
“Fashion Coat,” The National


i tried to Photoshop® myself
back into the picture
from which you cut me

the process was tedious and slow
because i work from dream and memory
haunting me like welcomed ghosts

Chapter 1

i have been hit twice by cars while cycling
and i cannot remember anything about them

Chapter 2

i remember every moment
from the first time we made love

every detail of your apartment
the position of your bed in the room

the Salvador Dali rose poster i gave you
hanging on your wall near the door

the flush along your neck and face
and every word shared between us

Chapter 3

i remember The National concert in Asheville
and that you were not there beside me swaying

Chapter 4

i remember reading At Night We Walk in Circles
wanting to highlight in blue this sentence:

“Nothing is more deserving of one’s respect,
he told Monica that night, as they lay in bed,
than two young people who’ve found each other.”

i remember i could find only an orange highlighter
and that i could not share about any of that with you


i have discovered that Photoshop®
cannot fabricate the things that matter

especially when the things that matter
are no longer possible and no longer there

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