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looking through a viewfinder

the lens that once gazed at my kind

in an imperial colonial timeline

through the viewfinder,

this lens,
this eye,

was it kind to them?


faces, ethnicities
flattened under an exposure in time


I entered a museum of stolen faces,
faces and ancestors, studied and documented



I am easily placed into this archive of faces
I approximate the measure of our noses
and the furrows in our brows



this lens, it looks. 
but how do I hold my camera?
how heavy is my lens? 
who brought the camera to you?
whom do you point it at?

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