Theft

"I had always heard that native people believe that
photographs steal their souls, and here I learned
that in Kayapo, 'akaron kaba' not only means 'to
take a photo' but that it also means 'to steal a soul.'"
From "Capturing souls," by Ricardo Moraes, 2011

A person walks down a street alongside their story,
hand-in-hand with their protagonist, themself. One
finds one’s character compelling, as do others, soon
there are strobe lights. Your surface—skin, clothing,
the ways you breathe out and in—are caught, teased
apart, made absolute. Wading through a cold stream
of attention, unseen teeth tearing off tiny bits of you.
The aperture closes, swipes your soul, plagiarizing a
last bit of flesh and turning it to pixels. “You” now is
the story you walked alongside, as hollow as a reed,
the text-slash-reader impressing the facsimile “you.”
Nothing warm; nothing left with which to soul kiss.