The Photographer

I remembered your birthday / nine days late

when someone played Chopin at the wedding    that was when I relived

the time you played the piano   for me

I held the melody close / like a heartbeat 

I can’t recall the  key

There are no pictures / just my memories

say cheese   one two three smile at me

the distance between    us    a plastic film / immeasurable 

I’m still learning how to miss something    

in darkness,          by an empty  space

what are memories / if they are not real,     on the edge of touch?

the way you pressed a palm  cool heavy    on burning skin

I dream of a stranger   who does the same   to  me

polaroid / big smile   twenty candle flares   black and white

the reflection in my crinkled eyes / void 

yesterday    behind the white veil I turned

to the shadow on the wall   behind me,

the fingertip just in the frame       just a blur

to you all I can say is sorry;     all I can do is sift through the    pictures   

and   promise   

photographer you were loved.