you won't find me in photographs packed in dusty tattered boxes.
don't look for me in the black and white negatives you hold to the light.

i am the finger on the trigger, the eye behind the camera.
i am sand in your fingers, always passing through.
i am a dust moat, only seen through the looking glass of light falling in patterned beams.

i am a cloud,
and photographs could never pin me down.

if you see me,
it won't be in an album.
no, you will find me weaving daisy chains in downtown traffic. you will find me dropping pennies like bread crumbs so i will always find my way back, 
and wishing on the moon when you can't see the stars. or holding shards of blue glass to the sky when the clouds don't break. you will find me wandering the forest barefoot, trees tugging at my hair or writing poetry in brail and in sharpie in neglected crannies on the subway,
because i always said art is for everyone, right?

i am an ocean,
don't try to hold me in a mason jar.
so if you see me,

take off the filter.