Night Vision
A poem about what emerges in the darkness
Just a reminder that I’m offering an end-of-year discount on all new paid subscriptions. This promo will run through January 7th, and if you subscribe during that time, your entire first year will be 25% off.
In the daylight I try to destroy myself. Only in the night do I feel at home. In the twilight it’s not my nerves on fire but the sky, and as the light fades the world turns to silhouettes filled with possibility. Trees and birds become dense suggestions of themselves. Limbs are not defined by the bodies they are attached to. The sun slinks away, allowing wild colors free reign amongst the night’s encroaching palette. My own silhouette emerges, an outline suggesting a fully formed being. In the dark I am all the things I cannot be in the day. In the dark I am an emissary of realized dreams. Shadows on a wall have more power than you realize. Stories told by firelight reach impossible heights before settling in the deepest corners of your aching psyche. Your shadow self yearns to dance with the others. My shadow self knows that dancing is a privilege. Epiphanies of darkness rise like the tides. Even at their lowest, they don’t disappear completely. They bide their time and creep back up when the night sky calls them home.
WEEKEND POTPOURRI:
Currently on repeat:
I’m really loving Reylia’s photography
Simon Wu writes about six handbags he owns, except the essay isn’t really about the handbags but what they stand for
A(nother) poem:
DARKNESS STARTS
By Christian Wiman
A shadow in the shape of a house slides out of a house and loses its shape on the lawn. Trees seek each other as the wind within them dies. Darkness starts inside of things but keeps on going when the things are gone. Barefoot careless in the farthest parts of the yard children become their cries.
Thank you so much for featuring me in this! Appreciate you taking the time to include me in it! Sending boatloads of best wishes to you over the holidays!