Dark Room

by MICHAEL T. SMITH

I saw you
or the outlines thereof,
whose shadows dance to the whims
of the light.
Wanted to write a poem
to if not describe it—
wrap it in a pooling embrace,
but the chemicals between us
must have been tricky,
rolling like the tide
in the darkroom of the secrecy
of our love, which for you—
determined as I was—
to have it born again
on the photographic film
born again primordially:
You only formed slowly
In my eyes, me seeing your shadow;
your image, always
after.

–

Michael T. Smith is an Associate Professor of English who teaches both writing and film courses. He has published roughly 300 pieces (poetry and prose) in over 100 different journals.

© Michael T. Smith