Unfinished, but delight enough in these:
the captured pause, the dissolving outline,
the delicate suggestion of process.
I have a partiality, it seems, for the partial
image, the summary (misread as summery)
evocation of a scene, a face, a figure.
Isn’t this how it is in life – the quiet click
as a roaming eye hovers and finds its focus
in something less than the whole picture?
The contour of her cheek, the shadows between
his small fingers, the meeting of two surfaces.
Incomplete is enough for me.