BY RACHEL WOLFE
A canvas to intercoastal regions of illumination
half opened or closed, the pain is entirely see through
it’s a something we scurry by
glance at and pretend to ignore-
_
but there’s something imminent in this form
this new wave of palette to explore,
in these hours the minutia pass
beneath the breath of sidewalk gawkers.
_
There’s a poetry to this-
this style of residence
keeping in mind
a coming out to play remains
more than a memory inside-
_
In an auric blend of mystery and intrigue
looking towards a direction of manifestation
intangible moments are realized in real time
emitted in the vapors of exhalation.
_
These sights shout such tall orders
even in these hours a deafening vacancy
interpreted unkindly pleads subjectively
for invariably the ephemeral does fail-
_
And from this form we meet
neither from within, or outwardly
pacing, stirring and finding forward
on repeat.
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PHOTOGRAPHS
© All copyright remains with photographers
Translations is a new editorial curated by Steve Bisson and written by Rachel Wolfe that focuses on the dialogue of image and text as individual parts relating to the totality of art and life.