1000 times I run into you, boarding night shift locomotives,

A night stalker,

You are present, but always absent. An empty dress,

A glass between us. A screen, two screens, shop fronts, and a mirror, which falsely inverts you image,

Possession? Vanity? Faith? Faith in Vanity?

A journey for, or in hope of recreation? This is how your image is constructed,

Deep purple, emerald green, dark blue, warm orange, flashy yellow, and bright red bathing in diffused, or sharp rays of artificial light. Narrow depth of field, cinematic nostalgia,

This is how I simulate the image of your image, the memory of your memory.