She stands beneath a canopy of blurred light,
a figure half-in shadow, half-in bloom,
her painted face a quiet testament
to all the souls she carries in her voice.
The microphone rests loosely in her hand,
as though the song is not commanded
but coaxed from somewhere deep
a place where memory drifts like smoke.
Flowers crown her—soft, defiant
petals bright even in monochrome,
framing eyes that look past the living,
toward stories only the heart can hear.
In the hush between breaths
she becomes a bridge:
between sorrow and celebration,
between the weight of earth
and the lightness of release.
And the bokeh world behind her dissolves,
a constellation of quiet witnesses,
while she sings not to be seen
but to be felt
a single voice rising
through the tender dark.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 1039
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