by Peter Lewis Peter Lewis · Follow Published in Firewood · Just now -- Photo by Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash They say that black isn’t a color, really, that it’s more like when the light forgets where it’s going, and decides to stay Or when the spectrum is swallowed intact, like the wayward prophet caught three nights in a timeless morass It’s what I see when I look in your direction, a magnetic eternity from which I am hopeless to escape and I don’t want to.