Camera

We sit on your balcony in the hot summer breeze, you're resting your
elbow on the sill, staring at the view.

I'm on my knees, trying to take your picture, trying to catch a piece
of you that you won't show.

My camera goes clickity click click, while you laugh a fake laugh that
I know you're putting on for my sake.

So I stop clicking and tell you to pretend I'm not there, which I know
you'll have no trouble with.

So you go ahead and pretend I'm not there: your brow relaxes, your eyes
darken, and the most beautiful smile creeps onto your face.

And for a moment I see just how beautiful my absence makes you.

With a lump in my throat, I go clickity click click, but the moment
escapes me, just like you always do.

And I come to realize that I can never make you mine, not even in a
photograph.