It sits in a drawer
below the weeks underwear.
A relic of a time when light was measured
with a glance toward the sky.
It stood between me and the reality.
A witness to all I observed.
A testimony faded in albums seldom touched.
It judged the world
one thousandth of a second at a time.
Not caring if it was the truth.
Leaving that to the captions.
Sometimes I hold it in my hands
and put it to my eye.
I don’t like what I see.