Words from my notebook

I've pulled it out of the darkroom
In an attempt 
To reclaim what was taken.
That box of snapshots
Sitting on my floor,
As I scatter these images, memories
One by one.
I'd never looked
At her beauty 'til now.
Her skin is mine;
Her hair,
Her essence.
I would give anything
To capture her again
But she belongs to me
Only in photographs.