He tells her think urban,
points the camera, shoots her
in rubble and debris: her nose, cheek,
fingers and lip, all her asymmetrical fragments.
He separates her


then disassembled and disjointed
puts her pieces back together.
She is sixteen, brittle and unfocused.
Her eyes expose a scrambled fear
turning toward her mother.


Her movement congeals
after the first take. Her outfit
masks her, annuls her for the camera.
She exudes an ashen calm as he wanders
past the borders, hostage for the lens.


He says she’s a natural, her mother says,
“how much?”

(Originally published in Grab-a-Nickel)