By Jazz Sambac
The world is sepia on polaroid.
No more in black and white.
With age, I too have changed perspective,
New things exposed with light.
Beautiful surface, yet nothing could fill.
It is easy to fall for this glossy still.
This moment in time, I will look at anew.
I see now, it’s no reflection of you.
As such, I no longer trust in snapshots,
Likness is caught, but it’s not all true,
You’re an aperture, dimming all the bright -
Foolish enough to come through.
You were just a pretty girl-
the unattainable - cloaked pearl,
Whose hate could consume an entire world.
From the dark room, a wrath unfurled.
Gorgeous disaster,
Photogenic horror.
My mother.
My mould.