Stolen.
A moment in time of unsuspecting poets acting out the screenplay they have written and determined to be their fate.
What details are unable to be penetrated into mind, a machine can capture allowing the observer to experience all that was a second ago, and all that will never again be.
The nuances that as humans we tend to exaggerate and expand upon become blurred by their implicit subtleties illuminating the core of our creation.
Frozen by a moment, nothing is separate.
People, plants, animals, and objects become the same.
Everything composing a picture is part of the same scene, the same story every unsuspecting poet holds to be their own while unknowingly collaborating their narrative with every other moment maker.
A picture can be viewed the way the Gods of the sky view the world, of many contrasts yet nothing is separate from the whole.
One.