#Poem priestcraft

Curled on the bed, smiling
like a cat in front of a fire
crescent-shaped
she laughs, like flesh-pink

A snapshot
A picture I kiss into life
A few-frame flick-movie
compacted decades
Overlapping images stick
and colour me

So much more here when I add history
more than is in the clean moment –
the fresh moment that does not tint
your eyes

I count senses like it’s an exam
like it’s essential
I must know something is missing

I don’t make the rules
Things just come to an end