an unprofessional photograph

I capture it with my untrained eye,
blind to the exposure rates, or even how
the sunlight is supposed to hit right.
I try it despite of my unaware limbs,
not knowing how my fingers are supposed to
hold the memory, how my legs
should be positioned to soak in the experience.
I attempt it with my fumbling directions,
accidentally clicking twice where it isn’t needed
but never when it is.
I let the edges fray, and sometimes
the raw landscape betrays me for
I dawn no Leibovitz’s hat.
It is blurred, out of line;
you must squint your eyes to see.
It is an unprofessional photograph,
anyone can tell:
subject out-of-focus and the setting poor,
roaring laughs and overflowing love.