a poem to my dearest HOLGA
For you, my little plastic friend,
my Lomo-love has got no end.
I take you with me, everywhere,
and I don’t mind if others stare.
You’re made from plastic, red like fire,
and you give me what I desire:
Vibrant colours and leaking light,
the colourflash works quite alright.
I am not perfect and neither are you,
that’s why I love you, and you know that’s true.