Saddest Photographs III: Polaroid Booths

I can picture you
Dragging and clacking your stilettos
Amidst the brazen noise of revelries
Like a mellifluous zephyr in a savanna
You'll replace the frenzied floorboards
With the tranquility of a weather vane.
I can picture you
While you are away, but inside me,
By the bus' window or amongst clouds,
Dallying amidst markets or forests,
And still stitching a poem in your hair
Like a radio song without a radio
And I can picture you
With the slopes of your back turned on me
Careening over a sluggish computer
Whilst reading an anonymous poem
About the beauty of your hair and shoulders
Even when the pristine face is hidden
I can picture you
In the lacquer leaf of a magazine
Or the coffee-stained napkin
For you are the inflecting hue of everything.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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