my head flowed freely
in her eyes were lamps
shining brightly asking
a million questions
quizzically but than
i thought it was not
my blood but my camera
that had become her
fascination truly she
was wondering what
magic it held that it
had captured her tiny
soul beautifully her
faith her parentage
her shia ancestry
reading the names
of her forefathers
her family tree
than she gave me
another envious
look she knew my
grandchildren shot
pictures better than
me without Fstops
point and shoot
without camera
dead decadent
rules unlike me
marziya nerjis zinnia
to be or not to be
she let go her vision
shot me without a
camera veritably
