a shot from the (he)art is never too late

I’m no photo-grapher;
I don’t write what I see,
and make graphics out of thin photons appear,
knowing just where
to look for the light,
just the right amount
of dust flickering in the air
under a span of the skies
where eyes dance across
the pages of a spacetime passed,
or take every single frame possible
and vie to die slow
or find the right spot,
the angle most precise
to tell the truth and never lie;
I create an image of the imagination born,
and tell you now what can be seen,
who am I?

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