She was born in a delta
of three rivers. He’d been a native 
of that river which had caught fire.

But physics is not biology.
Equal and opposite reactions
happen between two bodies.

Their past dissolved into next,
torn like a lost lotto ticket,
scattered as a broken strand of pearls.

Their wounds trailed like the wake of a trawler. 
They argued through that slipstream of eras 
and ages, cities and places they tried to call home.

And yet, each next morning while they walk,
she aimed another attempt to compress 
the radiance of sunrise with a snapshot.

Later, on her laptop, 
she added light, deepened color
to her ever-changing obligatory daily photo

but the beauty never matched After Effects. 
After edit attempts, like clockwork, 
she once more clicked: Restore to original.