Everywhere we went, the world kept asking who we were.
Some rooms never fit,
no matter how small you make yourself.
And still,
I knew it long before you said the words.
One of us had already left.
We kept dreaming,
just never toward each other.
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Author: Renee Newlon
I am a Turkish American writer and photographer. I work in short-form prose, poetic fragments, and photography. I don’t photograph the event; I photograph the moment after the event. A few things that stay with me: Plato’s Cave, Oberg’s Culture Shock, and Beethoven’s Ever thine. Ever mine. Ever ours. My greatest teacher was my college philosophy professor, Sister Jane Sullivan, who taught me how to think and how to see.
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