Jason Kang

Projection as a new man

For once, I don't care about my shadow. I do not watch it dissolve into quiet jade earth. It is too late to turn around & ask questions against the light. It is late dusk when the mountain range, first to darken, is stripped of boulder and definition until it is as flat as the porcelain moon growing inside. So black that it is no longer a mountain, but a mouth, a tunnel dug into the clear coral hour. Where is the way in? the pale breeze carries only salt in-