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Bipolar MAG
Black and White
photo negatives fighting together
in the night. But
when brought to the Light,
create one picture.
One being.
the Black is so dark it swallows
you. It is all the despair and
sadness in the world made up
to create one side. But the Black
doesn’t cry. There are no Tears
- Ever.
The flash of Light is blinding,
immaculate, perfection,
burning
in the
Memory
like the all-seeing Eye.
The cold, hard steel shutters close,
my skin opens and Red comes.
The more Red, the more the
Black and White define.
Without Red,
life would be gray.
My eyes adjust as I walk into the dark room.
Click.
The amber light beams
my Eyes dilate in the newfound
comfort.
Even though my comfort is in the dark,
hidden, protected.
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