I don’t know why I came back.
In the daylight, everything here has thin, translucent skin—
the words beneath reversed.
I can peel the mountain’s flesh, touch the text
Everything speaks of regret in daylight.
There are letters forming inside my fingernails.
I know I’ve tricked myself before.
I know the way eyes glass over
looking back, realizing you’ve done something wrong.
I know how to forget.
I wanted to be good—
here, the light reminds me I’m not.
It won’t let me forget anything.
I reach up, take the sun in my palm.
I want that darkness, and it is dark
except for my glowing hand.
Moon over the mountains, I pull my arm back,
throw the sun through that green hole.
I am home,
forgotten and new.