Lens Says

Location

She polished my lens after she polished herself. 

Her face caked with

foundation,

concealer,

blush,

mascara,

lipstick.

But did the opposite to me--

she wiped the impurities off my face rather than put them on.

 

She gripped me gently and calibrated my lens.

I had risen toward the heavens like a sacrifice,

giving me the opportunity to

appreciate her aesthetic from an aerial perspective. 

Click.

 

She views my portrait of her but frowns. 

Does she fail to recognize her own allure?

Have I not captured your appeal accurately?

 

She proceeds to open an editing program on her monitor.

She defaces her own image with countless layers of filters and distortions.

 

I long for the time where I was used to capture 

vast landscapes,

seasonal weather,

festive gatherings,

and

your raw, undistored splendor.

 

#nofilter

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741