Self-Portrait as a Double Exposure
My friend talks to me when no one is around. What she tells me is forbidden.
We’re kind of like witches, we can’t talk about it. In the negative space
You can add anything to a picture — the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset, a first-
Aid kit, a drag queen with a traffic cone on her head. Being cute is my only mission.
To want is to be at an angle to what is — like a hook where the two ends
Never touch. Have you seen how a dog looks up at its master on a walk.
An undeveloped film is like an organ: unseen until you open the covering
Part up. In a darkened room, you can make anything disappear. My friend
Talks to me about being pretty, how to make my neck look longer —
It’s a whole operation. What if I want to be caught like a dog on a hook
Or lofted in the air like a winning chihuahua. Walk a loop while dramatic music
Plays in my head. I’m ok with this amount of closeness to others.
What if there are two kinds of people and I’m neither. Have you seen
How a cut flower changes colour in the vase, leans away — all the undeveloped
Layers. The champagne of it. My friend says close your eyes —