A fast-clicking camera
Captures the moment
When a loaded balloon breaks,
The water inside it
Reasonably in the shape
Of a glass Earth, as well
Before it quickly falls
Apart, leaking away,
Flopping, as it were,
Into a shapeless puddle.
We who have been molded
By tenderness before the denial,
The fevered season
Of turning away
To flourish into something other—
What shutter will
Ever capture or betray
How affection has shaped us,
Against our awkward
Will?
