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Flash.
She captures my soul,
With each flash of her camera.
Running through my mind,
Like that tiny roll of film,
Repeating a sequence of memories in color,
To be stored in an album on a shelf.
The lighting was wrong,
And you saw the real me.
I'm trying to change,
The hue of my appearance,
To better suit your intellect.
I'll take the black and white,
And imagine it as a Technicolor dream.
Where you will spend your nights,
Wandering in my head.
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