not as an ending
but as a deeper script
the hour when meaning stops behaving
and symbols loosen their collars
night is where the unsayable
takes off its shoes
where thoughts become animals
and memory learns how to breathe sideways
i welcome the night
the great velvet editor
that crosses things out
so only the essential remains
stars puncture the dark
like footnotes from another intelligence
quietly correcting the day
i lay down my daylight name
and answer to something older
something lunar
something that doesn’t require proof
in the night
time folds itself into a smaller shape
and i slip between the creases
sleep is not unconsciousness
it is a border crossing
i welcome the night
because it speaks in riddles
and i am finally fluent
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