Beast in the Nighttime

Why is rain exhausting?
And on dark clouds I pin thoughts of muddy things
a very human bulletin board,
and note a distinct kind of sadness.
Like the eye for a sharp nostalgia,
we search our life for the dark that allows us rest.
Darkness has always been birth and calm and enveloping quiet earth.
No, we do not fear certain species of sadness. No. We covet a night that leaves us on our own to see the sky without any performed jade. And invent stories for the others alone in their homes tonight. Alone and in the dark. A human becomes some kind of beautiful beast when unwitnessed.
A night where you do not have to handle your heart like a wild horse. Get to be ugly and thoughtful and gripped and deviant. A safety we fear. A sadness to covet.

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