A poetic reading of Kirrily Linch's photographs by Lloyd Godman

Photo-booth identity
A dark curtain vibrates, moves
parts in a silver, sliver then closes
from the throng two figures pushed inside
a tardis of time capture

the giggle softens

Who has come to claim their identity?
Celebrate a moment?

inserted coins clunk through the machine
the stage is set –
clothing removed bodies positioned
an elegant hand set with sensual fingers pointing
Click – shot one  - in a flash of light the moment is dead

Move to the side, look up let your body be fatally cut by the frame
dissected in graphic gestalt
maybe the hand down in a last gesture, fingers relaxed
Click – shot two - the flash again - the serial killer of time
no being is aware of the secret death within

Two heads face each other, the lips move slowly closer,
join -  a long passionate kiss
a private performance adjacent a bustling public space
hold the pose – longer
Click  - shot three dead again frozen in the act of love
locked tight in cold black and white

Move slightly closer to the lens this will darken the light
Imagine only white skin, arms and hands against a dark dress
the head too high, decapitation   - identity removed
click - last shot – the gun is empty

In a whirr, the processed results – moist warm paper
Locks a vestige of time passed

Ephemerality casts a soft veiled hand
Later- over years, bleached the memory fades
Dies at the hands of another killer;

exhausted fixer.