Snapshot



3. I wrap my hand around your shoulder as you awkwardly grin. The purple fluorescent lights in this bowling alley blind you. For the last time, we are perfect.


2. It is halloween at school and you dress as yourself. I hold out a tray of cookies and smile; you don’t bother. This time, we’re only acquainted.


1. Bright eyed you try your very best to smile into the camera. We are strangers now, to both each other and the photographer. For the last time, I am perfect.


0. I run my hands through earth and hold you for the last time in forever. Glossy photograph paper stings my hand; memories spill like cyan ink. This is our last goodbye, the goodbye I wanted; I write it on the palm of your hand.


Then, I start digging.


By Riel