The sun is also a liar

just like me

in its yellow prism/ it flourishes vim

in its ragged downpour/ it washes moons

in its half-light/ it chokes purity

All of this in a μπουνἀτσα of intrigue

Out of ourselves, mischief grows strong, and enters souls

to eat at the heart of yes and no

she levels life,

Like her cousin, the dog of weather

and her mother, the urchin of streets

I want to enter life from someone else

Someone Sagging

and Staggering

an arrhythmic lodestar