they call me a liar
because i don't take as many pictures
as the person in front
of the window shop
becoming a display herself
i wonder maybe
what picture means to them
the ones that call me a liar.
when strings leave my eyes
and puzzle pieces begin to fit
from blood
and stars from my mouth
begin to explode
and i get a little sweaty
and everything gets quiet
no body
exists
that's when i take
pictures.
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