Alex Aldred
The camera-lamp flash snaps shut,
pinning your silhouette against the wall
like an insect on a corkboard,
or a seagull drowned in oil; ink coils
round your throat, down your spine,
until the photograph is developed,
and all of your details and colours
are mine, clipped to a drying line
by a wooden peg, a hundred of you,
trapped in these little half-moments
for as long as I want you to be;
your very own darkroom purgatory.
***
Alex Aldred lives and works in Edinburgh, where he is currently undertaking a PhD in creative writing. His work has previously been published by Daily Science Fiction, the Cordite Review, the Molotov Cocktail, and more. You can find him on twitter @itsmealexaldred, or visit his website at www.alexaldred.co.uk. At night, his stories climb out of his laptop and play tricks on him.