Sun Eater by Dre Levan, published through Querencia Press in 2024, is a collection of poetry with a cover of smoked cigarettes, offers a bit less than fifty pages of measured words and powerful introspection. With a strong sense of color “...All the splatter-fire painted the same color as your heart…” and titles that bleed into one another, “This is what it is to be aglow…” and “...let yourself be a little kinder to your own skin…” Recurring urban imagery includes the underworld and fire, graves, worn edges, faded pages, and tears that reveal stories. Love and the cosmos are invoked, and the author proclaims, “I just ache like sunshine aches for shadow.” Some of the works read like a song, and my tongue wanted to dance over the words. Alice and wonderland blink into the words like childhood watching a life maturing, though even in the most melancholy of these works, hope sparkles like a celestial spark.