Black And White.

The photograph was not perfect, I agree. 

And I do not know if it would ever be. 

Neither did I try to make it so.

The colors didn't complement one another. 

Was it ever supposed to be?

It had the most inappropriate things in the backdrop - as if appropriate has a definition.

The skin had fine lines and the eyebrows were not in contour.

The hair was not made and lips were chapped. 

The light didn't fall in all the right places too,

I forgot that light travels in a straight line so I could bend a little.

So I turned it "Black and white" before the world could see.

Perfect.

The shades were gone and so was the mayhem.

The light fell right for it didn't fall at all.

Lips were no longer chapped and hair looked done.

It was beautiful now - as beautiful as I wanted to show.

It was fit to be seen - as much as I wanted to unveil.

And it was perfect - as perfect as my perception of perfection.

And a mystery too, with layers of truth, some which were hidden in the Black, and some in the White.

But we all love mystery, don't we?

And yes, it was as unreal as Black and White,

For life is all that's in between.