You told her she had a pretty face.
I studied it.
Too many Instagram filters.
Too much eyeliner.
I don’t think you ever said anything about my face.
I think I had paid you all the compliments, hundreds like raindrops over your skin, I washed you clean.
I left you emptied.
Vacant. Anyone could move in.
I had to leave.
You left first.
Clou le Fou
In conjunction with my photography exploring negative space, I have also been writing in that silent time between midnight and 4am, and here I have gathered memories and words from that space between dreams and reality.