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Listen to me. I will spill my insides for you once only. We were three—I am the green, the growing, the day. I loved the moon, the silver night, and he loved the sunshine, fierce and hot, and she loved me because the sun must love the day. And the sun and I stood in a valley of stone and faced death, because we wanted to spare the night, who had suffered a thousand deaths already, and we didn't want him to bleed any more. But he would not allow it. He swooped from the sky and clenched death in both hands, and we wore his blood like skin.


Amy Lane


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