My best sense lie lateral, umbra to the casting camera, on location to a fragrant stay of neutral essence, the damp wood and closing of taproots as the waterfall berate those alluvial with exposure. The lens had sped to have her body fulsome to the rounded net they shadow with balance and report the quell of burning desire, a smoother entrench of decaying hollow, hungry for a time lapse umbra, the light to a radiant cello, forged through the expenditure of time. Nutritional recover with a resolving betterment, leaving no trace, time the only light capture, life’s recording imprint, capital beets of flesh: golden windows of flourish, flagrantly spared to a collective golden flame, seized with a sprig of dill to infuse the sugar beets, a supple notion, easing brief pang, salient with remorse, photogenic buds, my cameras impersonate expression to view.

2021 Adam Blewett ©