take pictures of a pretty girl

i'll point the camera at her, and she jumps
almost an inch from the lens
so eager for proof that she's alive, has attention
a sign that she's wonderful.
and she is, you know. she's five,
they haven't learnt about flaws yet
it's all a-b-c-come-play-with-me.
but in maybe
ten years or so, 
the gap between her and the lens
will
widen.
like a hole.
and she'll cover her hands with her face
if i'm in a room with a camera, 
scolding me for the way her nose sits on her face,
and other items on an impossible inventory
someone must have handed to her
when my back was turned,
wiping her foggy breath from
the lens.