hold my feet

maybe you know the way we are falling

the way that I must sneak

with turned-in nails, cringing against

the wall of you. there is no loss

in long eyes – I read you every day,

splintering on door-sills and lintels. Do you know what fires

lap up the last? How can I forget?

Photos

I wrote a fairly long post about how I’m trying to figure out why I don’t particularly like getting my photo taken while hypothetically tying that to my childhood abroad, where I was constantly being pointed out and my time in India, where passersby would take my photo all the time. Then I realised it was probably one of the most self-indulgent, over-emphasized pieces I have ever written and deleted all of it.

 

I’m still working on being comfortable around cameras. Yes, maybe it’s because I really don’t like being singled out. But I’m working on getting over it, and hopefully sometime soon I will have honed my modelling skills to perfection. (Like that will ever happen.)

 

This post is a bit out of the norm, but since we’re covering everything under the sun, let’s end on a paradox:

This was taken by my favorite person in the whole world, in a hotel room, while I was texting someone I love, on an amazing weekend which happened to be one of the last times we were able to spend quality time together in Uganda. 

This documents love right here.