Icon

1.

I see you
and you enter me through my lens.
I re-work you
neatly in my catalog.

I can't live
without my files,
my eyes
abstract you.

I know you
make of you
an icon mixed
of mind stuff.

You sit
in the museum of my memory
prominent among the icons
that compose me.



2.

We live
among cartoon skeletons,
canned statues,
containers
of the living.
We live among examples
rarely touching anything,
even then with masked touch.
We live in maps,
hovering over the earth,
in our pajamas
feet dangling.


http://www.photoshow.com/watch/ZW3Bm9KM