It’s just the sun’s dim residue, what’s left
over after it’s been choked by the horizon.
But we love a good duality:
a supreme light to govern the day,
a lesser one for the night.
We gain power over what we name,
make it a reflection of ourselves –
that slithering sound in our ears
really the hiss of our own tongue.
I don’t think I have it in me
to kill a man, but maybe I could
if I called him something else.
Header photo by Dani Wojtalewicz.
Matthew J. Andrews is a private investigator and writer. He is the author of I Close My Eyes and I Almost Remember, and his poetry has appeared in Rust + Moth, Pithead Chapel, and EcoTheo Review, among others. He can be contacted at matthewjandrews.com.
wow…this is so poignant right now…beautiful.