people take pictures of each other taking pictures of each other

no idea what i thought when i saw yr picture the first time

i thought of paris

jardin du luxembourg

pale frogs sunning themselves in the november cold

the pale cream earth of the good arrondisements

visiting yr sarcophagus next door at the tombes des grands hommes

100 years y.a.d.

get myself a treat of jeff de bruges chocolate crepes first before the inevitable

doom and tears

i thought of what’s in yr head

and what’s besides

what’s at the tip of yr shoes

kicking the air

into submissions

maybe that’s what you’re into, submissions

after all, in the drama of life

aren’t we all

wannabe dominatrices?

i thought of the standard factory-issue green bench

of painting it the red of yr labia

or maybe the red of yr mania

what do i know

what do i know

about paints and sinners?

i thought of the papparazzo

hiding behing a bush

yr complicity in the whole affair

yr dragging the sun, trees, la mer

into the vortex of yr (finish this sentence yrself)

i thought of many things

things that had happened to me

things that had not happened

things that might’ve happened

things that might not be

in this world

but the picture is just there

perfect

not saying a word