It is dark.
Like, dark dark.
Dark in the morning and dark in the afternoon,
dark, too, during the day,
the dense fog like a white night
turned inside out, the shadow side
we’re schooled to praise and welcome,
the long nights when we idealize the animals
who know better and stop working for a while.
Carry me in your mouth, deep into the cave
where I can lie down and sleep on a thick bed
of dried pine needles. Wake me when it’s over.