the film

and the film cranked, and captured something i hadn't seen before. i suddenly noticed your eyelashes. they are unusually long. i noticed your sunburn eyes. i noticed your smell.

the film cranked and it whirred and it was old and almost forgotten but not quite. It had brothers and sisters but they were all used for they're charm and it was left behind.

the film cranked and it believed in beck and in memories and in folk wind. It believed in the love it took, the soul it kept once it cranked.

the film stole your heart and gave it to me. it burned in my hands and then it burst into flames and the whole roll disappeared within my camera because the piece of soul it took from you was to alight to contain.

the film cranked and it screeched and squealed and hummed at each tender fingertip that stroked it, purring and curling underneath the hands that caressed it into giving up its images.

and then the film's charm won them over and it was never seen again.