I have been taught to measure and sift
the lightening powders. I love their names,
the burning power within, chlorate of potash,
sulphurate antimony, gunpowder, pyroxylin
and magnesium. They are poisonous, rank,
evil, are most dangerous to work, being fierce
and unpredictable when transformed into heat
or light that scorches. I burn crushed sugar
with potash or sprinkle magnesium powder
onto guncotton or grains of saltpetre.
Monsieur waves and I light the powders
but today I am distracted.
The studio is dark in winter light; the mirrors
gleam with slivers, scimitars of silver.
The woman undresses, my body swollen
by heat as she unpins her hair. It explodes
over her soft pale flesh. Monsieur is impatient,
shouts, Allez! So I strike the allumette,
return the woman's smile, forget to remove
my hand as powder ignites and detonates
while the mirror disintegrates in a green shower.
The Photographer's Apprentice by Margaret Speak | Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
20,00 US$Precio
