If I could make a necklace of your teeth,
I would wear it like diamonds,
like prizes of days spent
being made smaller & sharper,
like a photograph.
You wanted to be a photographer
and I only a lens,
an eye between Descartes & Newton,
never to succumb to Art History Laws.
Instead, I accepted the scars with piety
and devotion, like a bird
in the black garden of thorns.
Focus & shutter, precision & clarity:
virtues that lead to redemption.
