In Whoever's Hotel Room This Is
If it were up to me, the bible would begin: A man steps into a field... I'd forgotten what was in the background when you took the photo of me I wouldn't see until later. When I did, it was just a wall, and my smile was a mouthful of rocks. A little after it was clicked off the T.V. screen's light condensed down a drain. Even when the television had become an aquarium full of black water that last bright dot burned in my eye. On the back of my photo you wrote, This isn't you, and you were right, it no longer was.