The tree with the lights in it.

02 April 2020


The afternoon sun irradiates everything
Except for where my figure casts a me-shaped negative space on your body
A solarisation of our experience

I notice the effect and reach for my camera
To memorialise this instant of overwhelming, subjugating you
The waning sunbaker

You with the booming voice
Supine, hands behind head
Lying on a bed of glistening shell fragments

I stand above
Peering down into the viewing lens
Restrained, faceless
Yet still capable of eclipse

My dogsbody projected onto your certainty
Half a century before your screaming face emerges in the developing tray
Could I have projected something onto those buoyant Bungan days?

Like how the war would come for you
Leaving me in charge, no longer The Assistant
I could overshadow you
We both knew it

You as the headlining act
And I, the support
Are just the roles we assume
Those expected of us

The larger than life frontman
His ancillary partner
Waiting somewhere off in the wings

The photograph is a small island in a sea of white matting
I draw near to examine it
Like leaning in to make out a soft voice
The black frame calls to mind a box-like camera
And I catch my own reflection in the frame’s glass

I don’t have long to linger here today
A host of responsibilities play on my mind
And I’m soon ascending the escalator
Crossing the lobby and exiting the art gallery

My split-second victory dissolves into the heat of the day.