Pictures

The tiny toothed, thin piece
of coated metal
Snug safely in a plastic frame
A second
A million switches long
And the device, like flame
Emit heat and light

An ornament worn
In every occasion
Festivals, weddings, parties
Replacing the black box with an eye
The plastic frame emerges again
And then, a flash

Good old friends, separated by time
Kin that appear
Like the good old man of Christmas
Those you see only in their festival best
Or even those, on a daily basis
Love or loath, but that is all hidden

Gloss-coated lips and flossed teeth
Hair that appears like silver thread
In sunlight, falling on your face
Lighting up your eyes
Your triumphant screams to be heard
To those that behold your perfect piece of art

And you look again
Feel the screen,
the skin of your fingers glowing red
And sell it to the wall
That state-less wall
For the pile of blue-cuffed hands that make you smile

And oh, if time spared
In the plain, four walled room with no window,
You swipe through your extended brain
When the real one just cannot
Discard them, pictures, as it can, with a click
A second before, a parting thought
How you let the world believe your real facade
Your perfect piece of art
In the tiny toothed, thin piece of coated metal
Snug safe in a plastic frame