I’ve realized we don’t take much pictures anymore. Guess, it’s never been such a big deal.
Told me, “live your life, stop trying to capture every moment.”
Fine. I sneaked one anyway.
“Pictures are memories,” I’d argue, “a way to remember what, where, how it felt and when you did it. Why be against that?”
I’d stun him; not because he agrees but because he’s stunned that I’m arguing about it.
“Like why, why,” he’d say.
Most times he’d brush me off but I’d still sneak one anyway.
My brother takes pictures, he’s an artist. The type that snaps a shot, writes deep hardcore insight and leave your jaw dropping like….whooaa.
I bought my sister a camera. Does she use it? To be honest, I’m not sure.
My point is this….
When I lie in bed with you, my head plastered on your chest, your heart playing my favorite song and our bodies producing the most effective heat; it’s worth capturing.
When my face spreads a smile, a real smile like the ones you’ve placed on my face during our rides home; it’s worth capturing.
So don’t fight me on one picture because each one is worth a lifetime of reasons.
The best reason of them all, our love is worth capturing.