The Stills are Silent

He travels. His
pictures are his way
of taking me.

He has always
taken me.

Cambodia.
Cotabato.
China.
That’s just the letter C.

I see what he wants
me to see.

Outside the frames:
a sigh, a light
chuckle,
lilting exclamation.

My eyes
travel within
the borders,
the rest of me
are with the
dust & dishes.

You, body & soul
you
freely frolic
in the mud.