Lens Flare

by Rory Hawkins

It coughs, spits, flumes
light in all directions.
Audio cracks, the screen
blooms hot white.
 
Dial it all down and blink
like mad till the retinal imprint
fades. How do I stay in focus?
 
Eyes and lense adjust
to find an answer: open rum
bottle in favoured hand, left
forms a red ball of light.
 
Billowing smoke, blushing
sand—pink as lips, cheeks,
fingers, and toes. You hold
the flare like everything else:
 
at arm’s length. Tiny
crabs sprinkle at your feet,
chasing tiny shadows.
​
Rory Hawkins is a Meanjin/Brisbane-based writer. Find more of his prose in ScratchThat magazine issues 4 & 5, the upcoming issue of Inkblot and through his Instagram @rory_writes_sometimes