[Hold on to Nothing] on Bresson's [Simplified Pool]

            Wrap your legs around me, throw your body back into the effortless, lazy tides and feel how the breeze blows for you, how the water chills your skin and my touch a-lines……..

            You are naked before me now, then again, you’ve always been, a spectacle a man as myself adores, always with a sense of drama, always able to cajole a smile, lift you free of anything that may dare to keep the true you from me, from nature, from all that belongs to us at any given moment.

            Now if this tide turns, I’ll turn you along with it. If the water chills you more than any body should be chilled, I’ll find a way to bring myself closer, an impossibility we both would be astounded to witness. So hold on to nothing as I hold on to you, never let go of your drift and buoyancy a-top of the surface as I stand on both feet, waist deep, waiting for you to wake from your dream world, and come into the one I am brewing of you……

Dontrell Lovet't

[When They Come] onHenri Cartier-Bresson's [Acapulco Market, 1963]

            They come, they go, but she stays and never goes.

Flocks of tourist descend upon the place she always called home and because she has always called this place home, there is nothing significant that she can place her finger on as to why anyone would love it so much. She looks to her right, apprehensively, with apprehensive eyes, clean bar and bottles, aware that with travel, comes travellers who want to blend their experience with a bit of drunken delirium, one-night stands, lingering nostalgia and hindsight, where all markets, girls at bars and regrets will never be to be no more.

            Henri Cartier-Bresson could have easily been one of those transients to the exotic unexplored becoming the exploited cliché destination, his photograph complicit, an aggravating accessory so beautifully displayed in immortality, still image of a woman who clearly has indifference to who comes, who goes, because she’ll never go to return.