Flawed Photographic Memories

[Daphne L.]

Toward the end, my father
took up photography
snap!
flash!
snap!
snap!
flash!

Nothing was safe
from his creativity
and ingenuity.
He would shoot anything
and everything.
I found a thousand shots of me
after his death.
His lens had captured everything about me
-freckles
-smiles
-pimples
-moods
-my pain
-my degradation
at his hands.

Memories are made of this
and how greatly I wish
he had never owned a camera.

[Edna Sweetlove]

Your Dad was a flasher? I hope he was well hung.

[spamheid]

Better a camera than a shotgun. It does less damage.