Snapshot

We cannot take photographs,
for fear of who will see.

That smile on my unshaven cheeks
where memories of lips
walk ghostlike, leaving dimpled footprints-
a stray lock of your fairytale hair
captured caressing your skin
fallen from my fingertips like
snow from evergreen lovers’ boughs.

Catch this moment here,
this fearless love
burning shadows on paper.

There, our fingers intertwined
like our tangled dreams
resisting recognition, happily lost.
Two hearts snapshot in time.
Your stubborn smile recorded
filling my empty chest to brimming,
my drummers beat
urging you, little one, to dance.

We cannot take photographs,
but we do.