Black and white photographs
Color the paragraphs,
Touching the faces and
Edges of sight
Old blood and ink stains,
It’s always the ink stains that
Keep all the fragments from
Fading to night
They leak from the photos
And cover the railroads left
Under the gaze of a
Decadent sky
Snapshots of sea sides
That blur when you touch them,
Portraits of shadows left
Wondering why
My fingers are covered in
Street corners, street walkers
Huddled in masses and
Spangled in snow
One thousand lighthouses
Blinking goodbye and all
Taken in turbulence
Ages ago
Before I was anything
But a faint scar
Painting the face of
Whoever you are
Nimbus in a Bottle 