Allergic to sunlight I
spend the summer
in its evenings. Dip
in the river in darkness,
silt clouds like ghosts,
seizes my calves. I walk
with one headphone in
through shadowed
neighborhoods that smell
like smoke.

Everything about summer
feels binary, the heat and
the after. The sun and the
fire pit. The hostile and the lunar.
Inside from daylight I hang
prisms in my windows. Let the
glass translate the day. Take
light and make it my own.

Oisín Rowe (they/them) is a trans and disabled writer, editor, and poet. Their poems or reviews have been published in Black Fox Literary Magazine, Massachusetts Review, Quinobequin Review, and elsewhere.

Website: www.oisinrowe.com 
Instagram: @orowe_