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There was a time all photographs transformed

gradually, 

in rooms of dim amber light

 

Film was removed from cameras privately 

but placed into water and specific chemicals

things developed 

 

dark paper became lighter

images revealed themselves 

a piece of the past was frozen into place

 

Certain winter mornings

I observe similar magic

 

Eastern light enters our bedroom gradually

the dark shapes on our bed transform until 

you are next to me:  wrapped in quilts and sleep 

 

In soft orange/amber light

my favorite dream comes true