My latest original, five-line poem. My apologies to the photography aficionados if I butchered how a polaroid works. Once I get an image stuck in my head, though …
Her, the Polaroid
she fades in and out like an unsure polaroid.
i expose her to the light of a long-dead star.
she falls to the earth a disparate dandelion
where i inhale the dormant memory poofs;
the delectable toxin i welcome into my lungs.