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.
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