ALT photobooth shoes stick to the floor, we wander past the bar into a dim red-lit lounge. pinball, locked door, you. you’re a seeing machine. pull your curtain closed— shroud us in secrets that end just above our waist. tap on a train faregate, a beep reminds us that transportation isn’t free, a short trip still costs us. you’re a seeing machine. see what we’re made of. we’re trapped here now, we can’t hide from flash. all whirring and waiting.
don’t know how long ‘til our capture, our release. we kiss from impatience. you’re a seeing machine. our mouths are blurring, hands in hair, bite marks in flesh. we have no time. falling back into the light. was there music before? we lean against the box, we cannot lose contact. you’re a seeing machine. you take time to develop. wait here: a strip will fall. freeze us in four frames.