From the Mouths of the Gods

Janus

One can rarely say
What they are or are not
For One is never simply one.

One can lust after the moon
But cry under starlight's gaze
While wholly disregarding the presence of the sun.

One can be sapphire skies today,
And bloodied crimson tomorrow.
On Thursdays, One might simply be yellow.

One can be a phoenix
Made of glass reflecting sunlight,
While being a kraken made of ash clouds.

One can fear the blackness of night
And yet resent the light
For burrowing its way behind throbbing eyelids.

One can cradle a lover close,
Gently press lips to skin,
Then tighten their grip until
Feeling breathless
Finds new meaning.

We are too complex confused cruel kind colorful and creative
To ever just be
One.