A picture's worth a thousand words,
and in a thousand splendid suns, a thousand worlds,
who pause about their daily grind,
to grind down to an instant's bind,
and as the photo seeks to form,
to its image it conforms,
it has thus no future and no past,
for the moment has to last,
and slowly as the colors flew,
sprouts a perfect picture grew,
and what this perfect picture glues,
is a perfect picture of me and you.