illusionary darkness

anything further than an arm’s-length away is an angle of light, technically,
which bothers me,

i have no way to verify
the texture, the profile,

we spent one day every year in science class learning how easily the eye can perceive what doesn’t exist and i remember that often, the vases that were sometimes faces, as i look down the street and wonder if the bodies on the pavement are walking or dancing and if the sunlight can tell me the difference

if we lived in a world with starlight and nothing else i wonder if deception would still fester in the dark–

shadows are supposed to harbor treachery but i think i would be more honest with my hands outstretched than i am with my eyes open


HODGES ADAMS is a 20-year-old poet currently studying Creative Writing and Literature. Their work has won the Academy of American Poets Prize and the Jeffrey L. Weisberg Memorial Prize administered by the Hopwood Board at the University of Michigan.