there is a melancholy blackness settled over the treetopsMature

There is a melancholy blackness
settled over the treetops,
cloaking the mountains in shadows
while the clouds have sunk down
to hover over the asphalt.
Everything is terribly quiet.
It reminds me of nothing, and yet,
it sinks into my bones, where
it unpacks and gets acquainted.
It is not the first stowaway;
traces of them all linger, etched
like hieroglyphs into the walls of
my skeleton.  There have been so many.
I can’t fight that sometimes,
when the night is cold and bare,
I enjoy the small fires they build
in the dens they carve into my joints;
but mostly they’re just miniature black holes,
sucking me dry, drawing in everything
that’s ever mattered to me
and leaving nothing behind. 

The End

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