Please, do not take my photograph.
It is not the wayward tooth,
or the botched parting in my hair,
or the fist-shaped hollow
that makes an empty coat of my chest.
It is not this tell-tale beard.
None of these things troubles me.
It’s that old saw we know is untrue, yet
cannot deny – in our crooked smiles
the lens finds truth; the camera does not lie.
Portrait
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James Lancaster 