viewfinder

i thought you had a summer home in barcelona       because i had seen pictures of you in front of la sagrada família        and knew your father had money. so maybe that’s why when i first met you i didn’t know what to say,    someone too worldly to have anything to learn from me. then there was your halloween party where i managed not to be in any of the photos.     perhaps it was for the best. upstairs,     on a couch i’ll never sit on again, an image of us has started to yellow:        me, blushing because    jamie lee curtis’s breasts are on screen, and you, nervous because all your other guests                            left us alone. nothing happened. at least for another year or so. sometimes it’s hard to guess how long film                 needs to be exposed. i wanted to get the colors right.