MARIO MEDINA

INTERJECTION TO THE SHUTTER

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My weary face

Is a mosaic

Of bitterness and delirium

Where my ancestors

Fell silent.

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The iron bears witness

Through an imperturbable

Look

To the honest carbon

Of my shattered

Bones.

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Within this photograph

The currency of the past

Is instinct.

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The foreground

Adjusts itself to the rest

Of the senses.

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That moment is intimate,

That

When the one to be photographed

And the one who behind the lens

Keep still

Before the camera,

Perhaps recalling

A table of shared

Sunsets

Throughout their lives,

Like the converging lines

Of their own shadows.

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